


Son Of Man

by eney, Spazzin



Series: Two Worlds [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - PTAtale (Undertale), Anxiety, Autism Spectrum, Book Club, College Professor Sans, Coming of Age, Depression, Growing Up, Hacker Sans, LGBTQ Themes, Magic, Middle School, Multi, Nonbinary Chara & Frisk (Undertale), Nonverbal Frisk, PTA Sans (Undertale), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Teacher Toriel (Undertale), Teenagers, Weddings, Wizards, teacher sans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2019-08-17 02:40:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 66,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16507811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eney/pseuds/eney, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spazzin/pseuds/Spazzin
Summary: WARNING: If you haven’t readTwo Worldsnone of this will make sense, so probably read that first.It’s been five years since Monsters were freed from the Underground. Asriel and Chara are recently revived with a few surprises in store, the nature of Wizards is made (sort of) public, enemies and allies new and old are found, and everyone grows  up a little - including the grownups. And we all know of some that need it.





	1. Everyday

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back!

_7:06 P.M., June 23rd, 20XS_

 

_It’s a beautiful day outside._

_Birds are singing._

_Flowers are blooming._

_On days like this, kids like you…_

 

_…are trying to adjust to more than you thought you would._

* * *

The Book Club kids gathered around the Red SOUL, which had been placed in a jar for safekeeping. The SOUL Jar was currently resting in Asriel’s lap. Frisk was snuggling up to Asriel, playing with his ears.

“So this is Chara,” Brian said flatly. “Who…was living in Frisk’s head for the last five years. And now they…aren’t. What the heck.”

“Yep,” the Red SOUL said. “It’s me.”

“Well, looks like Frisk’s family is multiplying at an alarming rate,” Caroline deadpanned.

“So’s the Book Club, what’s your point?” Chara snapped back.

Caroline stared at the SOUL.

“Did…did a jar of hearts just sass Caroline?” Hunter asked, slightly fearful.

“Yep,” Theo managed.

“Touché,” Caroline said with a dismissive shrug. “As it stands, this is bound to be a very interesting year ahead - for us _and_ our enemies.”

Caroline smiled and giggled. It was pure evil.

“I am suddenly concerned for our enemies,” Colleen piped. “Whoever they are…”

“Courtney, Rachel, Alicia, and Scott and Trav,” Penelope counted off.

“Though considering everyone seems to be aware of our part in dispatching Matt…”

Silence reigned.

“…His parents are in jail,” Caroline said. “Facing charges of neglect and abuse.”

«Guys, can we focus on the happy stuff?» Frisk signed. «We’ve had enough sads for a while…»

“Frisk’s right!” Penelope said. “We just got Asriel back, and now we’re bringing Chara home too! This is a cause for celebration!”

“Penelope’s right,” Caroline announced. “Nell, do you have the cupcakes?”

Penelope reached into her backpack and took out a box of cupcakes.

She high-fived Caroline.

“Wow,” Chara monotoned. “They look so delicious I don’t think I can eat them.”

Silence.

“Fuck.”

* * *

Megan swept the floor of Muffets as she hummed a tune to herself.

Carapaces, crumbs, and cobweb clumps were swept up and discarded with ease.

A big blue-eyed fuzzy black spider the size of a dinner plate dropped onto the blonde’s head.

Megan smiled and finished up her task.

She stood behind the register and petted the spider.

“Slow day today, huh Barnaby?” Megan mused. “Wonder if _they’ll_ show up, hm?”

Barnaby made series of clicking sounds with his fangs, but otherwise said nothing. Spiders don’t really talk much.

“Yeah, Sawyer’s busy with their part-time job too…”

Megan sighs.

“Well, there’s always tonight~”

She giggles and blushes.

She _loved_ teaching Sawyer how to play chess.

* * *

“…And the winner of the all-around medal - Brooke Lane!”

Applause and cheers as always.

Brooke accepted the medal and posed for photos. Going through the motions.

Soon the task was done.

She arranged for her ride to pick her up. Going through the motions.

Ride came and dropped her.

She unlocked her front door.

Father watching the news for the latest big stocks in the living room. Mor was at work. Then again, even when she was at home she was at work.

Brooke walked up to her bedroom and took out her sketchbook and some pencils.

She flipped through the pages of mandalas before spotting an empty page.

She put the pencil to the paper.

Going through the motions.

* * *

Slithering sounds slid onto the boat.

“Tralala~ Am I the Riverman? Or the Riverwoman? It matters not~”

“Oh, sssssshut up. Hotland. Now.”

“Tralala~ Off we go then~”

Water sprayed behind as the wooden boat traversed the underground canal.

“Tralala~ Beware the roses three~”

“Sssssshut your nonssssssensssssse.”

The boat arrived at Hotland.

The passenger left.

* * *

“This is proof - the Monsters _are_ brainwashing Humanity! Infecting _our_ _children_ with their _demon_ _powers!_ Swaying them from God and down the path of darkness! They aim to use these _witch_ _children_ to place _Humanity_ in the HEll  _they_ crawled out of! And so we _will_ redouble our efforts! We _will_ fight back! And we _will_ reclaim the world for Humanity as Our Father in Heaven intended it to be!”

Applause and cheers.

But they’re less than they were last month.

Craig stepped up to the podium.

“What a way to open a meeting - an announcement from our Dear Founder!”

Applause.

“Now, here’s how we’ll be fighting back,” Craig said. “We’ll be having people mail pamphlets to every Human family in every part of Ebott, and we’ll be holding a demonstration during the meeting between the Dreemurrs and the ambassador of Sweden on the fourteenth. Our Dear Founder has told us that the incident at the state capitol two years ago must not be repeated.”

Murmurs flowed among the group.

“And now we are dismissed. Have a wonderful week, and don’t forget! July 14th!”

* * *

Randy ran his hands down his face in exasperation.

Times like this gave him a chance to see what his daughter found reprehensible about people. Or rather, where she may have gotten some of it.

Why would someone sign up for something so _utterly fucking stupid_ with their _work email_ that it made him _work on it from home?_

Then his phone rang.

He answered.

“This is Randy Marlow, your Elecom IT representative, may I help you - wait, I’m at home. Lemme rephrase that - who the hell is this?”

_“Good evening Mr. Marlow, this is Bobbie Smith from San Juan Mountains Psychiatric Facility. Do you have a moment?”_

Randy looked at the work lined up on his computer. Too much to get done in one night.

But then again this was…

“Sure, I have a moment I guess. Is uh, this about…?”

_“It is. She’s seemingly stabilized enough to be able to be released soon. We will need to continue monitoring her for the time being so we can know of an exact date. And as her only surviving family -”_

“Yeah, thanks for calling,” Randy interjected. “Anything else?”

_“…That’s all sir. Thank you for your time. I know this is a lot to take in, but you have time to discuss it with your family.”_

“I know. Thanks.”

_“Of course Mr. Marlow. Have a good evening.”_

“You too.”

And with that Randy hung up.

He saved his progress, logged off the computer, and shut everything down.

Then he slammed his head into the desk three times.

And hyperventilated.

His eyes burned.

He forced it back.

He couldn’t.

He had to be strong.

But he also had to tell them.

Sharona - she knew.

The kids though…

* * *

Sienna was just about to close up for the day when her phone rang.

She groaned before answering.

“Sienna Harper, Private Investigator, how may I assist you?”

_“Hello Miss Harper, this is Wayne Nash with the Mountainside Police. I’m calling to request your help with an ongoing investigation.”_

“Two things before you go on,” Sienna said, sitting on her desk. “First of all, are your superiors aware of this? The boys in blue don’t exactly take too kindly to my type, on plenty of levels…”

_“They know,”_ Nash replied. _“They’re the ones who had me call you. Cops call PI’s when they need things cops can’t get.”_

Sienna hummed thoughtfully. “Well, now all that’s left is Thing Two - I’m about to close up shop for the day. I will be considering your offer. Just let me know of any developments as they become evident, and contact me again tomorrow morning at 9.”

_“Okay then - wow, twelve hour work days?”_

“I make my own schedule Officer Nash. One of the perks of my line of work.”

_“Hmm. Well, you have a good evening Miss. I’ll call you again in the morning.”_

And then he hung up.

Sienna sighed and placed the phone on the charge port.

She groaned.

“I should put out some Help Wanted ads…”

* * *

Richard sat on the edge of the bed while Linda paced back and forth slamming things.

He silently thanked the powers that be that the kids were out of the house with friends. They didn’t deserve to hear this.

“I cannot _believe_ that you would even _think_ about quitting your job!” Linda roared. “Do you have any idea how much this house costs?! How much groceries cost?! How much our son’s soccer stuff costs?!”

“Linda, not only do we have money saved up, but we can also afford to cut back without much difference -”

“WE ARE NOT CUTTING BACK AND YOU ARE NOT QUITTING YOUR JOB!”

“Linda, I want a job that will let me be near the kids. My current job doesn’t allow me that luxury.”

“YOU THINK I _WANT_ TO BE STUCK IN A HOUSE WITH THOSE TWO BRATS?!”

Linda’s eyes widened.

“Ugh, look what you made me - _ugh!”_

Richard sighed. “Linda, you can go out and do stuff with your friends if you’re so miserable and overworked here. Especially now since I’ll be home more often.”

Linda sputtered angrily.

Richard sighed. “I’ll sleep on in the basement so I don’t get killed in my sleep or something.”

Estelle appeared behind Richard, laughing.

“SHUT UP!”

Linda picked up a phone and threw it at the headboard of the bed where it broke.

It missed Richard by a good foot or so.

Richard looks from the shards of phone back to a horrified Linda.

“Yep, I’m going to the basement,” he sighed, getting off the bed.

“W-wait, Richard - Richie, baby, I-I didn’t mean to -”

“Tell me when you’ve calmed down - like really calmed down, not just no more throwing things. No more yelling and blaming me or the kids for problems we never caused.”

And with that Richard left.

Linda stared after him, rooted to the floor where she stood.

She sighed and slammed herself onto the bed.

He’d come back. He always came back after a few nights. Why would this time be any different, huh?

Perhaps it was what he’d said. About blaming him and the kids for everything. Which was totally untrue - she never blamed them for anything unless it was very clearly their fault. Why was _she_ the one being attacked when _they’re_ the ones making her life difficult?

No way _she_ was in the wrong. That could never happen. Impossible.

As long as she followed what her mother said was right, she wouldn’t end up like Donna.

So Donna was happy. But she was…she was…

Linda growled and threw a pillow at the lamp on the nightstand.

The crashing sound rang through the house.

* * *

Toriel, Asgore, and Gaster had taken Caroline aside for an “important discussion”. In Caroline’s personal experience, this was usually not a good thing and would end with her crying and being berated for being childish on top of supposedly being ignorant -

But this could be different.

They weren’t just people - not to her.

“So what is it?” Caroline asked.

“W-well,” Asgore stuttered, “you see, Miss Caroline -”

Gaster sighed in exasperation. “Caroline, at this point in time it would be futile to keep your status as a Wizard hidden. Too many already know as it is after Mr. Gorman’s demise.”

Silence.

Caroline straightened her posture.

Strength. Confidence.

“What would you like me to do in that regard?” Caroline asked.

“Well,” Toriel began, “we cannot divulge the entirety of the truth at this time, as there are those who would misuse this information for their own ends. But we will be getting in touch with Sienna as well to get her opinion as well.”

“And Frisk and Chara as well, I would hope,” Caroline ventured.

“They are already aware,” Toriel assured. “Of course, we will most likely be revealing this information once Chara fully returns.”

“And when should this be?”

“By the end of August, and no later,” Gaster said. “The process will be far different from that of Prince Asriel’s, but no less miraculous for it.”

Caroline paused.

“Alright,” she said. “Tell me more as the situation progresses.”

“Of course.”

Caroline sighed as she electrolyzed away.

The older Monsters stared silently at the spot where Caroline had been, and now only held a scorch mark and the smell of burning carpet.

“…She’s already figured out Elemental Teleportation?!” Gaster gasped. “Stars above in Typhon’s mane, she truly has come back from Reversion…”

“We have seen it before Doctor,” Asgore pointed out, deep voice still shaky. “Many times in our day…”

“Yes, but not only has it been _centuries_ since we have seen such an event, but her mental state has recovered…quite swiftly for one of her age…”

“Well, while you two are marvelling, _I_ will be attempting to remove these burn marks from the carpet,” Toriel sighed. “I do hope she works on that…”

* * *

Sans yawned as he left the basement.

The sight in the living room that greeted him made his smile grow.

Frisk and Asriel were snuggled together, Chara’s SOUL container nestled between them. The SOUL within glowed a warm red, like coal embers or heated metal.

Someday soon that SOUL would be flesh and blood once more.

Five years ago, Sans did not by any means ever expect to say this, but here he was.

He couldn’t wait to see Chara.

* * *

_The new start for your brother and sibling fills you with_

_D E T E R M I N A T I O N_


	2. Carry On.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A meeting is held. A figure is looked at. A conflict is brought up. A jar is half-empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This didn’t take as long as I thought.

_10:39, July 14th, 20XS_

 

_It’s a muggy day outside._

_Asphalt is steaming._

_Children are trying break into fire hydrants to play with the water within._

_On days like this, kids like you…_

 

_…are preparing for a meeting with a foreign dignitary._

* * *

Frisk, Asriel, Sans, Toriel, Asgore and Shelby sat in the lobby of the Swedish embassy.

The wait was tense.

Frisk was bouncing up and down on their haunches, toying with Asriel’s ear in a futile attempt to calm down.

They wanted Chara.

But their sibling was with Gaster for safekeeping. Not in their head.

Not anymore.

Was it weird to miss that…?

No. Now’s not the time to think about that.

This was politics.

Politics is not supposed to be personal. Bad things happen when it gets personal.

“Mx. Dreemurr, Ms. Hellberg will see you now.”

Toriel turned to Frisk and Asriel with a warm smile. “Are you ready, my children?”

Both nodded.

“Well then, let us go.”

* * *

Sienna sipped her iced coffee on the veranda of the cafe, gold-rimmed aviator sunglasses low on her face. She opted to put on some red lipstick for dramatic effect.

She checked her phone.

Contact should have been here ten minutes ago.

“Hey, sorry I’m late. Traffic was a bitch because of the damn embassy meeting…”

Sienna looked up with one eyebrow raised. She lowered her sunglasses and narrowed her hazel eyes.

A Human male in his thirties with short brown hair and some facial stubble with blue eyes covered by simple rectangular black sunglasses. He wore a white buttondown with the sleeves rolled up, khakis, and scuffed-up brown boots.

“Have a seat Mr. Nash,” Sienna sighed. “And the traffic isn’t because of the embassy meeting, it’s because of the HWC protesting the everloving hell out of it.”

“Same diff,” Nash said with a dismissive shrug. “So why’re we here of all places?”

“Because their lemon creme cake is the best thing in existence and the staff doesn’t pry,” the Wizard said easily. “Now tell me - what do your guys have so far and why do you need me?”

“I need any information you have on _this_ person,” Nash replied, passing some papers to Sienna.

Sienna picked them up and skimmed them as a waiter stopped by and gave Nash a cup of straight black coffee.

Her eyes widened behind her shades.

She smirked.

“Well, you’re in luck Officer Nash, because I have another ongoing investigation involving this person. Question is, why is he being investigated and why can’t the force do anything?”

“Because we’re so caught up trying to deal with the media shitstorm that’s still going on from the lack of response during the shooting,” Nash groaned. “That lack of response was an order from the top. They claimed the Monsters would handle it themselves - didn’t think they’d try to heal the injured kids before doing anything else, and by the time they knew what was happening the other precincts had swooped in, so they just let them pick up the slack…”

Sienna sighed. Of course they didn’t. Some folks, no matter how much they claimed otherwise, still considered the Monsters a threat. Even after being proven otherwise, some people just won’t accept that they’re wrong. But those ones are the most satisfying to bring to **Justice.**

“You think we’re racist, don’t you?” Nash asked, tone somewhat defensive.

“I didn’t say anything,” Sienna groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “But I _will_ say that your guys made the _worst_ possible choices in the circumstances, and it’s _very_ clear that the public agrees. But dealing with PR wouldn’t be enough of a reason to get _me_ in on it. So what’s the _real_ reason?”

“We need you to monitor the guy’s bank account,” Nash said. “And keep an eye on ‘im. Word is that not being seen is your specialty.”

Sienna said nothing.

She smiled cryptically and faded away.

Nash dropped his coffee on the ground in wordless shock, hissing as some hit his leg.

Sienna faded back in.

“You could say that,” she teased. “You’re lucky - if you’d been bugged I wouldn’t have been as inclined to show what I can do. So tell any one of your boys and I’m off the case.”

Nash shook his head and goraned. “What the hell are you and why aren’t you on the force?”

“You’ll find out soon enough and it’s my own damn business.”

Nash just blinked at Sienna and sighed.

“Okay, so you say you’ve another investigation going with this guy?” he asked.

“For a close friend of mine,” Sienna replied “I guess you want what I’ve got so far?”

“What you can, yeah.”

“Okay, here’s what I’ve got…”

* * *

Frisk and Asriel sat side by side before the Swedish Ambassador. Toriel stood off to the side, Sans to her right and Asgore and Shelby to her left.

The Swedish Ambassador was a Human female in her early forties, with blue eyes and light blonde hair to her shoulder with short bangs.

“I don’t wish to assume,” she said, Swedish accent flowing, “but I believe this young Human is Frisk Dreemurr?”

«Yes I am,» Frisk signed.

Asriel flinched. “O-oh, they said they are, ma’am.”

The Swedish Ambassador smiled. “I appreciate your translation. And you might be?”

“Oh, u-uh, Asriel Dreemurr Ms. Ambassador,” the young Boss Monster said. “I’m Frisk’s brother and translator.”

“Is that so?” the Swedish Ambassador mused. “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you young man! I am Smilla Hellberg, the Swedish Ambassador to the United States. I appreciate your assistance.”

Asriel smiled.

«So what would you like to discuss, Ms. Hellberg?» Frisk signed.

“Well, the Swedish Government will be holding a hearing and will be voting whether or not to allow Monsters full citizenship rights should they choose to emigrate. I was wondering about your thoughts on that…?”

«I love the idea!» Frisk replied excitedly. «Especially since Monsters are still so often denied some rights in some states…»

“Yeah, it’s why our mom’s banned from Arkansas…”

“Asriel…” Toriel warned. “The term is _persona non grata._ And it’s more an unspoken deal between us and the state of Arkansas due to a mutual disagreement.”

Smilla chuckled. “You aren’t the only heads-of-state not allowed in Arkansas. Their current governor is…not quite accepting of non-Americans…”

“Nice save,” Asriel said

“It’s just diplomacy, Mr. Dreemurr. And really, there is no pleasant way to say it…”

«Sadly…but I’m glad Monsters will be given full citizenship in Sweden! Denmark, Norway and Iceland have granted these rights since last year, Finland is considering it, and the UK is open to discussion!»

“Ah! Well this is a wonderful first step! I do hope you will visit Sweden on your next mission to Europe!”

«We will! Thank you!»

Toriel smiled.

Progress was always being made. And knowing her family was among those leading the charge…

…it gave her strength to **Persevere.**

* * *

Randy, Sharona, Levi, and Caroline sat in the Marlow-Goldsby family living room.

“So what is it?” Caroline asked.

“I didn’t do it, no one can prove anything, I was in my room the whole time, I know nothing about the horse head in the towel closet!” Levi rambled.

“Levi, we’re not punishing you,” Sharona assured gently. “We will however be checking the towel cupboard for horse heads.”

“Oh,” Levi said sheepishly. “I uh, the horse head’s in Mrs. Toriel’s towel closet…”

Silence.

“Again, why are we here?” Caroline asked, more insistently.

“Well…” Sharona hesitated.

Randy sighed.

“It’s about Bethany,” he said. “The doctors at the facility called a few weeks ago. She’s…stabilizing, steadily.”

Silence.

“…Do we know when she’ll be released?” Levi asked.

“Not for certain,” Randy admitted. “They’re saying it should be spring of next year at the soonest at the rate she’s going.”

“Caroline, sweetie, are you okay?” Sharona asked nervously.

Caroline was staring into space.

“Why?” she asked, voice monotone and hollow.

“What do you mean?”

“Why were you in touch with the doctors?” Caroline asked. “You had every reason to have nothing to do with her, and yet…why?”

Randy paused before sighing.

“Because if I didn’t, there was no one else,” Randy said. “Her parents died in the early nineties, and she has no siblings or cousins that I can locate - but then she never talked about her family much…”

Caroline was silent.

“Is there a reason why?” Caroline asked.

“Not sure,” Randy sighed.

“Caroline, what are you thinking?” Levi asked.

Caroline shrugged and stood up.

“Thanks for telling me,” she said. “I’ll be in my room reading. Don’t bug me.”

And with that she walked to her room.

Her brother and parents watched.

“…We’re taking her to the bookstore tomorrow aren’t we?”

“Yep.”

* * *

“Angie, turn on the news. Ebott. Now.”

“Yes sir.”

Leland Schwartz watched as the twenty-something blue-eyed blonde the 100-inch wall-mounted television screen switched on to the intended channel.

“…no word on whether Coleman has decided to resign or not in light of these allegations. Back to you, Keisha.”

“Thank you Kent. Today Monster Ambassador Frisk Dreemurr is meeting with the Swedish Ambassador to the United States, SMilla Hellberg. Valerie Porter is live near the Swedish Embassy where this meeting is taking place. Valerie, what’s the situation?”

“Well, Keisha, as one would expect, the HWC has a lot to say on the matter, and they’ve taken to the streets outside of the Swedish Embassy to say it. And like last year when Ambassador Dreemurr met with state legislator Tim Hollander about drafting an interspecies marriage bill, a counterprotest has been formed. Police are present should another riot occur, but many on both sides are wary of these measures. We’ll have more as the situation develops. Back to you, Keisha.”

Schwartz clicked his tongue.

“Angie, turn it off and cancel my appointments for the day.”

“But sir, you have a meeting with Joe Phelps at two and one with the governor of -”

“Are you _talking back to me?”_

“…No sir. I will do as you ask immediately sir.”

“Good. Now go.”

Angie turned the television off and left with her head lowered.

Schwartz groaned.

People still remembered the Brock Turner incident. It was adversely affecting his cause.

He had to think of something.

He picked up his landline phone and called someone.

“Hello Max, it’s Schwartz. I’d like to schedule a meeting. What?! That’s too late! I can’t -!”

Silence. Schwartz listened to the voice on the other end. His face morphed from anger to…what seemed to be neutrality.

“…I understand. Okay then, December it is. Extend my greetings to Vicki.”

And with that he hung up.

Schwartz stood up and went to his personal elevator.

Down to the basement.

A pristine black Bugatti Veyron awaited him. A man who looked far older in the face than the body with sunken brown eyes and graying hair of indeterminate color awaited him.

“Butler,” Schwartz said tersely. “Golf course. Now.”

“Yes sir.”

Schwartz’s glare hardened at the chauffeur's words.

“What did you just call me?” he hissed.

The butler merely lowered his head.

“…Yes my lord.”

And with that Schwartz got in the back of the vehicle as the chauffeur got in the driver’s seat and started it.

Off they drove.

* * *

Frisk and their family bid Smilla their farewells and left through a rear entrance to avoid the crowd.

“okay, ready to hit the lab and see jar-a?” Sans asked.

“Sans, please do not call them that,” Toriel sighed. “But yes, I am quite ready…”

“As am I,” Asgore agreed. “Miss Wong, will you be joining us?”

“I have nothing better to do,” Shelby replied with a shrug.

“okay. asriel, frisk, you two are comin’ along too i’m guessin’?”

“Heck yeah!” Asriel said enthusiastically.

Frisk nodded with equal enthusiasm and a smile.

Sans chuckled. “okay then, grab on folks. keep your phalanges and tarsals inside the ride at all times.”

“Oh you know I do~” Toriel sang under her breath.

Sans’ eyelights darkened as his face turned cyan.

Everyone took the opportunity to grab on as he shortcutted to Gaster’s lab.

Gaster was waiting for them in an armchair in a corner, reading a book.

“Greetings, Doctor Gaster,” Toriel said. “Is Chara awake at the moment?”

“Sorry to say that they are not,” Gaster said as he closed his book. “They are taking being separated from Frisk rather hard. They had a bit of an outburst of frustration earlier that seems to have left them quite exhausted…”

“not surprising really,” Sans sighed. “they were practically attached to frisk at the soul - hell, maybe even literally. that probably ain’t a separation you get over easy…”

“Hmm. Well, I shall alert you all when they awaken,” Gaster said. “They’ll likely want to see Frisk and Asriel first thing.”

“I see…” Asgore said sadly.

“Ah! How could I have forgotten?” Gaster chuckled. “I’ve calculated an approximate date for Chara’s return to physicality!”

Frisk gasped happily.

«When?! When?! When?!» they signed, so fast one could barely make out the words.

Gaster chuckled affectionately and patted his grandchild’s head.

 **“Patience,** young Frisk!” he chided warmly. “They’ll be back on August fifth - in time for all three of you to enroll in school together!”

“which leaves me enough time to work on getting documents together for them before then,” Sans said.

“Well, when you have then set up perhaps you could help me with recalibrating the resurrection capsule for Chara’s return?” Gaster asked.

“sure dad, why not.”

“Well alright then!”

Asriel watched as Sans and Gaster made plans to meet to begin the recalibration process.

He looked at Frisk.

Frisk looked back at him.

They smiled, hopeful and **DETERMINED** ruby eyes shining behind their red-rimmed glasses.

Asriel smiled back.

Everything was finally falling into place.

* * *

Some hours later, Chara’s SOUL awoke. The red glow illuminated the empty lab.

They recalled the first time they were down here with Frisk. It took both of them working together to overpower The Player’s will so they could LOAD back to the Judgement Hall and see if Sans noticed.

He did, and it showed.

It would be many, many more runs before Sans saw that Chara was as much a victim of The Player’s if not more of one. But it happened, and now here they were.

Suffering separation anxiety and trapped in a jar in an underground laboratory.

Such is life they supposed.

* * *

_The promise of a new lease on life fills you with_

_D E T E R M I N A T I O N_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Carry On - Fun.


	3. Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’re back.

_2:48 P.M., August 5th, 20XS_

 

_It’s a beautiful day outside._

_Birds are singing._

_Flowers are blooming._

_On days like this, kids like you…_

 

_…are ready to bring your sibling back._

* * *

«It’s today! It’s today! It’s today! It’s today!»

“It’s today! It’s today! It’s today! It’s today!”

Frisk and Asriel were practically bouncing off the walls in excitement.

Chara was finally coming home.

“If both of you would be so kind as to _chill the fuck out,_ I would _greatly_ appreciate it,” Chara snipped.

“Sorry Chara,” Asriel said sheepishly.

«We’re just so happy!» Frisk signed. «You’ll have a body again! I don’t know how, Grandadster didn’t say, but no matter what I can’t wait to hug you outside of my head!»

“Of course you’d be focussed on the hugs,” the SOUL sighed.

Frisk only smiled.

* * *

Asgore stared silently at the capsules.

Their contents always made him nauseous.

Each face was recalled. Each dying breath playing over and over. Their names unlearned. Had Asgore known their names…

No.

It was too late.

The six SOULs had once been the final key. But then they had disappeared with the fall of the Barrier. DT had been extracted from the SOULs as needed - which hadn’t been often, if ever. To do such a thing to the SOULs was akin to torturing them as far as Asgore had been concerned, but the nobles and many of the scientists working with the SOULs assured him that they felt nothing - a dead Monster cannot feel, so why would a dead Human? The dead are dead.

It was callous and pragmatic. But Asgore could do nothing, lest he lose support, and his people lose hope.

Even keeping their DT like this felt like prolonging their suffering for no reason but scientific curiosity - until now.

Now they could fulfill a purpose - not the one for which they had been killed, but for a cause connected to it.

They would at long last be at peace.

They deserved this final act of **Kindness.**

Shelby placed a hand on his forearm.

“You did what you did for a reason,” she said quietly.

“I could have stopped at any time,” Asgore said sullenly. “Had I not been such a coward…”

“You were under terrible pressure from all sides,” Shelby explained. “You’d lost your children, and you weren’t given time to mourn because people expected you to lead and ease _their_ pain.”

A silent moment passed.

“A kingdom lost its heirs,” Shelby said, “but a father and mother lost their children. You were a king, but still a man in pain. You _still_ feel the pain.”

Silence.

“They can finally rest in peace…”

Asgore pulled Shelby into a hug as silent tears fell.

His children were coming home.

* * *

Hannah lay on the floor of the Dreemster home, coloring in a coloring book since her 3DS ran out.

Hunter sat beside her. She was wearing a jean skirt since Linda wasn’t around, so she was resting in her knees to keep anything from showing.

“Nervous Hanners?” she asked with a smile.

“I’m bored,” Hannah pouted. “And Asri’s not here either…he’s with Frisk and their mom and dad and uncle and grandpa and stuff…”

“He is,” Hunter said. “For the same reason we’re here.”

“To see Chara come back?”

“Mmhmm. Chara’s their big sibling, so they want to be there for them.”

Hannah looked downward. “I know…”

“Just be **Patient,** okay?” Hunter reassured. “They’ll be back real soon.”

“Okay…”

Silence.

“Wanna play my 3DS?” Hunter asked.

“Okay.”

* * *

Nash sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair before the desk of a man approaching his sixties. His iron-gray crew cut and mustache and angry brown eyes brought to mind J. Jonah Jameson, though the nameplate on his desk read Rodney Hoover.

“You wanted to see me Chief?” Nash asked.

“Ya got anything on our guy?” Chief Hoover asked gruffly.

“No sir,” Nash sighed.

“What are ya, waiting for the _girl_ to get it for ya?” the older man sneered.

“No sir.”

“Hrrmmm. Any other updates? Anything you wanna ask?”

Nash seemed to mull it over.

“…How’s the PR?” he asked.

“Better,” Chief Hoover sighed. “By less than ten percent…”

“Maybe talking to that Dreemurr kid would help. Set up a meeting with ‘em and -”

“Out of the question.”

Nash blinked. Chief never snapped like that - not at him, or anyone he’d seen.

The Chief calmed down immediately.

“Is that all Nash?” he asked through gritted teeth.

“…Yes sir.”

“Good. You’re on the Wharf beat today with Adams.”

“Okay sir.”

And with that Nash left the office.

He was filled with tension.

* * *

Sans strung together some code before printing the documents.

It was as hard as he’d expected - he was altering some very deep stuff. Like stuff that could get him in the slammer for life.

But he had the Heart of Gold on his side. They were helping him. They covered each others’ tracks. They were more than compatriots, than partners in crime in the name of justice and memes. They were friends.

Maybe even family.

He hoped they’d gotten their wedding invitations.

Sans took the papers and put them away in his Inventory.

He took a shortcut to the lab.

* * *

Caroline zapped onto the scene as Sienna faded into it and Sans shortcutted onto the same.

Gaster was sitting before some screens and typing in some code. Sans took a seat next to him and began to type as well.

“So what are we supposed to do?” Caroline asked.

“For now, you may entertain yourselves,” Gaster said. “We shall alert you both when you are needed.”

“Okay then.”

Caroline took to a corner and sat down on the linoleum tile floor.

She took out a book and began to read.

Sienna sat nearby and took out a bottle of gold nail polish.

“So you in on the Big Wizard Reveal?” she asked the younger Wizard.

Caroline did not respond. She was too absorbed in her book to be paying any attention.

“You okay kid?” Sienna asked.

“she does that,” Sans said. “ya get used to it. she’ll be out by the end of whatever chapter she’s on, i’d bet. depends on the book.”

“It’s called The Last Unicorn,” Sienna said.

“…yeah, she’ll be a while. just…get comfy.”

Sienna sighed and opened the nail polish bottle.

Sans just took to the screen and began to type.

Not much longer now.

* * *

In a large office inside a mansion, a portly man of 5’6 in a crimson pinstripe suit with slicked-back black hair and a pencil mustache in was smoking a cigar and looking over business accounts, making marks where… _adjustments_ were needed.

The only thing missing from the scene was a matching fedora. And the man had quite a few of those. He just had the propriety and good sense not to wear them indoors.

Yes indeed, Baron “Barry” Berry was a busy man. Running an empire was hard work.

But that’s why he had people. They do the work, he reaps the benefits.

But he still had to do some things, as much as he hated to.

Had to look legitimate for the people after all. That much was all on him.

Well, him and his PR manager.

The phone rang.

In-house number.

Barry answered.

“What is it Pierre?” he snapped.

“Sir, Miss Alicia requests use of the limousine to visit the beach house,” came the voice from the other end. “And your five o’clock appointment is here.”

“Did the girl bug you in front of the guests?”

“No Sir.”

“Then let her. And send the guests in.”

“Very well Sir.”

And with that Barry slammed down the phone.

Moments later a broad-shouldered man with sunken gray eyes and dark brown hair entered.

“Mr. Semyonov, have a seat,” Barry said, gesturing to a black leather armchair across from him. “Care for a cigar? A drink?”

“No thank you Mr. Berry,” Semyonov said in a smooth Russian accent. “I come strictly on business.”

“Very well then,” Barry said. “And what business is this?”

Semyonov tented his fingers and looked Barry in the eye.

“I hear you are involved in the Stardust trade,” he said. “Among the best in the business.”

“Your point, Mr. Semyonov?”

“Is it true that your Stardust uses… _dust,_ as an ingredient?”

Barry measured his options. Semyonov was big, trustworthy name in the underworld. To have him on your side was to have the world on your side. But there was a catch. Always, always a catch.

“What’s your price?” he grumbled.

Semyonov merely stared coolly at Barry.

A silent moment passed.

Semyonov’s leaned forward.

“All you must do is increase your Stardust production sevenfold,” he said.

“Are you _nuts?!”_ Barry growled, so close to roaring. “Do you have any idea what that would _cost_ me?!”

“You seem to forget who I am. I will be providing the means for this increased production in exchange for a 30% cut of the profits.”

Barry sputtered. _“30%?!_ Just who do you think I am?!”

“A man who cannot stand to lose a certain _bargaining chip_ in his possession,” Semyonov countered without emotion. “Should you deem my terms unacceptable, or bail on them in any way, I will take it for my own.”

Barry stood up in a rage and lunged forward.

Semyonov pulled a handgun. Aimed right for Barry’s chest.

Barry blanched.

“Good. You _do_ know when to shut up.”

Semyonov put the gun back in his cell phone’s Dimensional Box.

“I will come by with my lawyers with the contract next month. In the meantime, you may conduct your _business_ as always.”

Silence reigned as Semyonov left.

Barry picked up the phone.

“Pierre, get Amy and the red Bugatti. We’re going to the country club.”

* * *

Groans.

“How do you keep _doing_ that?!” Brian griped.

“Doing what?” Hannah asked.

“Winning!”

“I won?”

“GAAAAH!”

“Good job Hannah!” Asriel said.

“Thank you Asri!”

Frisk has Chara’s jar in their lap as they watched.

Toriel entered the den.

Everyone looked at her in anticipation.

“Frisk, Asriel, Chara?”

Frisk and Asriel stood up, Chara in Frisk’s arms.

“It is time. Follow me.”

The siblings stayed close as they followed Toriel to the backyard where Sans awaited them.

“ready?” Sans asked.

Frisk nodded.

“As we’ll ever be,” Asriel concurred.

“chara? you ready?”

Silence.

“I am.”

“good. hold on tight.”

Sans shortcutted away to Snowdin.

Caroline and Sienna were waiting.

Gaster appeared before them all.

“Do follow me,” he said. “What we need is in the True Lab. Asgore and Miss Wong will be waiting for us. We’ll be taking the ferry.”

“good. i’m gonna take a nap on the ride up.”

Toriel sighed and rolled her eyes with a smile as she picked up Sans and carried him.

The group reached the Snowdin ferry dock.

It took a bit for the Riverperson to arrive.

Moments later they did.

“Tralala~ Where might you eight be headed~?”

“Hotland,” Gaster said.

“Climb aboard then~”

And so they all climbed aboard the boat.

“Tralala~ We’re off!”

The boat rose on four legs that ended in paws.

It ran across the water’s surface, fast as the wind itself.

Before long they reached their destination.

“Tralala~ Beware the elder stone in love~”

Silence.

“Cryptic as ever, I see,” Gaster said with a fond smile. “But it is always good to see you again! Thank you for the lift!”

And with that Gaster went onward.

The others followed in short order.

“They’re _still_ down here?” Chara asked.

“So it would seem,” Toriel said. “They have been operating the ferry since the Barrier was first erected…”

“Not many opportunities for a ferry service on the Surface…” Asriel noted.

“We shouldn’t force them then,” Sienna said. “They want to stay down here they can. They seem content, so it’s not all bad I’d bet.”

Frisk nodded in agreement.

Before long they reached the Lab.

Asgore and Shelby were waiting outside.

“I take it everyone is prepared?” Asgore asked.

“Indeed,” Gaster said. “Are you, Sire?”

”As ever I shall be.”

“Miss Wong? Are you prepared?”

“Ready.”

“Very well then. Follow me.”

The group entered the Lab. They took the elevator to the True Lab.

“Miss Caroline, do you think you can power this place on your own, or should we use a generator?” Gaster asked.

“Considering what we’re about to do, I think I should conserve my Magic,” Caroline replied. “I’m not sure how big this place is anyway, so I couldn’t say how much I could do I’m afraid…”

“That’s quite alright!” Gaster reassured. “You’ve made marvellous strides in your Magic training!”

Caroline smiled.

Gaster flipped a nearby switch.

The lights came on.

Gaster led the way.

They stopped after fifteen minutes before a large device. Shaped like a Gaster Blaster, with wires sticking out from it, connecting it to six capsules, three on either side of the device. Within the capsules were six vials of a dimly glowing Red substance, each one with a heart-shaped light glowing in a different color borne by each Human SOUL Trait. Beneath the Blaster’s maw was a dais with wires attached. The capsules connected to a console with a screen, a 10-key pad, and a lever.

Toriel was horrified.

“The DT Extractor…?!” she gasped.

“The intent is to transfer the DT from the SOULs of the Six Fallen Humans into Chara’s,” Gaster explained. “Once the DT is installed, we will need capable Magic to work alongside it and shape the DT around the SOUL.”

“Will it hurt them…?”

”That I do not know for certain,” Gaster admitted. “We can always ask them on their return when they are ready.”

Frisk looked from Chara’s SOUL in their arms to the capsules of the other Fallen Humans.

“Think of it this way,” Caroline said. “When a Human dies, they have the option to donate their organs and tissues. This isn’t too different, I should think.”

Frisk gave Chara’s container a squeeze.

“Are you ready Prinx Chara?” Gaster asked.

“As I shall ever be,” they said.

“Alright then. Frisk, set Chara’s container on the dais.”

Frisk just looked very confused.

“A dais is a pedestal or platform,” Caroline explained.

Frisk mouthed an “oh”.

They walked past the capsules and placed Chara on the dais beneath the Blaster’s maw.

“Now step back, next to Prince Asriel.”

Frisk did as they were bidden.

They took their brother’s hand nervously.

Asriel just held Frisk close. He was shaking like a leaf, but Frisk’s presence seemed to calm him.

“Now,” Gaster continued, clearly starting to get into this. “Toriel, kindly set Sans down if you would please?”

Toriel gave Sans a kiss on the forehead and went to stand with her younger two children.

“Sans! Stand before the screen!”

Sans did as he was bidden, his face the epitome of chill.

Gaster put on some tinted goggles.

“NOW!” Gaster bellowed. _“PULL THE LEVER SANS!”_

Sans used his Blue Magic to pull the lever.

The machine came to life with clunk and a drawn-out whir. Light came on, red and orange and yellow and green and cyan and blue and purple and white.

“PRINX CHARA!” the scientist cried out. “FLOAT OUT OF YOUR JAR!”

“That has to be the weirdest thing I have ever heard,” Chara deadpanned.

They floated out of the container.

Gaster typed on the 10-key pad at an astounding speed.

The SOUL containers began to glow.

The vials of DT within them began to drain. But what had at first looked Red became…Red, but with threads of another color swirling withing it. It seemed that the DT had some remnants of each SOUL’s original Trait within it.

The DT travelled through the wires and toward the Blaster.

Soon the vials were empty.

“Alright! DT fully installed! Margin of error, 0.00000000000002%! Miss Caroline, Miss Sienna! Focus the essence of your Magic - not your Magic, the _essence_ of your Magic!”

Caroline and Sienna stood and focused.

They were surrounded by Yellow and Purple and White…sparks? Flecks? Holes in the fabric of the aether? It was impossible to tell.

But what could be told was that this was the essence of Magic - of _Wizard_ Magic. The power could be felt deep within the SOULs of all who were present.

The colors focused into circles - spheres - no, some extradimensional round shape that defied some unspoken natural law - and held their form before the Wizards.

“Now! Fire the essence at Prinx Chara’s SOUL!”

The round shapes of color became beams. The Yellow and Purple twisted around the White.

Soon more colors were added - Blue and Cyan and Green and Orange and Red. A rainbow around a beam of White.

The effect if had should by all means be impossible. It wasn’t light, but it glared like it and Chara’s SOUL was obscured by the maddeningly colorful…unglare. That was the only word to describe what this was. Unglare. Glare that wasn’t.

There was a feeling in the aether. A strong, familiar feeling.

The aether was filled with

**D E T E R M I N A T I O N**

An alarm went off.

“OKAY OKAY YOU TWO CAN STOP NOW! WE HAVE ENOUGH POWER!”

The colors disappeared abruptly.

Chara’s SOUL was floating. There was a White aura about it.

“Now,” Gaster said, voice somewhat shaky, “for the f-final step. You all may wish to tu-turn away. This may be h-hard to w-w-wa-watch.”

Sans’ eyelight darkened, his smile tightened. He turned to Gaster.

“dad,” he said fiercely, “i’ll do it.”

“Sa-Sans, I’ve g-ga-g-got th-this -”

“You’re glitching.”

Proper capitalization.

“…dad. rest up. i’ll take it from here.”

Gaster stared at Sans for a moment, hands trembling.

He looked down at them. The holes.

He looked at his son, borne of the hole in his right hand.

He gave a shaky sigh.

“V-ve-very well then,” he acquiesced. “I s-sha-shall…rest. All you m-must do is press the e-enter key whilst pu-pulling the l-le-lever.”

“got it.”

Sans put his right hand on the level while his left was over the 10-key pad.

“ready chara?” he asked.

A pulse of **DETERMINATION** flowed through Sans.

They were ready.

He pressed the key and pulled the lever.

The Blaster’s maw widened.

A beam of white and red light shrouded the SOUL.

The room was filled with white. It wasn’t light. It was more like…white darkness.

Which soon faded.

The Red SOUL on the dais was gone.

In its place lay a Human.

Dark red hair to their chin, rosy cheeks.

The Human opened their eyes.

Ruby red.

Frisk and Asriel ran to the dais.

And hugged the Human.

Chara Dreemurr hugged them back.

They had a smile.

They always did.

* * *

_You are filled with_

_D E T E R M I N A T I O N_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming Home - Dirty Money


	4. Any Dream Will Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chara’s back baby. Business as usual for Sienna. Politics happens. Two new characters in one chapter. And we have some - very literal - fluff involved.

_10:49 A.M., August 6th, 20XS_

 

_It’s a beautiful day outside._

_Birds are singing._

_Flowers are blooming._

_On days like this, kids like you…_

 

_…are watching your older sibling sleep._

* * *

Chara was fast asleep. Frisk had tried waking them up in numerous ways - they even had a mustache and monocle drawn on their face in washable black marker. And yet they were still out cold.

They were, however, tossing and turning off and on. So at least it was clear that Chara was in fact alive.

It was quite jarring when one could see Caroline sleeping out of the corner of their eye - as they could now. Caroline slept like a corpse. Soundless. Motionless. Breathing so slow and shallow she might as well not be breathing at all.

Brian was having fun poking her with a fireplace poker while Hunter watched in fear and fascination.

“How has she not woken up to rip out our throats?” she gasped.

“I dunno, but thank god she hasn’t,” Colleen whispered. “Feckin’ vampire this lass…”

Penelope just watched Caroline sleep with a smile.

* * *

Sienna went over all she had so far.

The guy’s money was definitely going somewhere. But nowhere surprising - nowhere _illegal._

Maybe she wasn’t going back far enough. Not going deep enough.

She couldn’t anyway - not legally. She was already bending quite a few laws as it was.

She groaned and decided to go over the applications.

She’d gotten a few responses to the help wanted ad. Many from people without real qualifications. She’d managed to sift out those with the required qualifications and toss the others, and now was looking at the remaining four.

Sienna’s eyes kept being drawn back to one in particular.

She sighed.

She still had time for more applications to come in. Deadline was October, so there was about two or three months left.

But this one was at the front of the line for now.

Then her phone went off.

_ *1 text from: Gaster* _

_Gaster: Miss Harper! I am currently at Mrs. Toriel’s and Sans’ home. Are you ready for the discussion?_

_Sienna: Sure. Slow day today anyway._

_Gs: Very well then! We shall be waiting!_

_Sn: Alright see you there._

Sienna sighed and pocketed her phone before closing up and fading away.

* * *

Alicia reclined on the deck chair by the swimming pool at the country club, positioning herself so as to _perfectly_ show off her new red bikini just the way she’d been taught.

She adjusted the strap with the tip of a finger - when she’d told her mother the straps were too loose she’d been told that was the point and shown how to adjust the strap in a coy flirtatious manner.

Alas, nobody was paying her any attention. Everyone in her contacts worth anything at all wasn’t answering her texts - Chloe she’d ditched long ago so it was understandable, but Brooke? Brooke was _useful._ And Rachel was like, the _only_ person who actually _understood_ her - or so Alicia told her to keep her from getting any funny ideas about being _better_ than her. So why the hell did they think they could just ignore her, huh?

Alicia took her lipstick and compact from her bag and applied it.

In the corner of her eye she spotted the one who was getting all the attention that was rightfully hers.

Creamy blonde hair, icy blue eyes, and a cute outfit that would be perfect at a yacht party.

Taylor Bartholomew. Eighth grader, West Middle School. Old money of Ebott. Not one of the Big Five Families, not even close, but from the same era or so. She was so cloyingly sweet - even to the _help_ \- that she _had_ to be faking it.

Alicia sneered at her before going back to working on her tan.

But first she put a reminder in her phone to ask Daddy to buy a yacht. Maybe as a present for her thirteenth birthday. That should work.

 _And_ it’ll make those losers feel bad about ignoring her.

* * *

Sienna leaned against the concrete basement wall. She stared briefly at the three Wizards sitting around a card table in the middle of the room.

Frisk was signing excitedly - Sienne didn’t quite understand sign language, especially not at the speed the young enby was signing. Chara was quietly nibbling on some chocolate - a pretty old brand, and hard to find too. Caroline was taking notes - Sienna had learned very quickly that this was normal behavior for the young Wizard.

The basement door opened.

Toriel and Asgore walked down. Gaster followed, leaning on his Gaster Blaster-topped walking cane with every other step.

Sans suddenly appeared at the bottom of the steps. Gaster didn’t even flinch.

Sans reached out to help him, but his father just waved him off with a smile.

Sans backed up.

“Well then!” Asgore announced. “Shall we begin?”

“Of course,” Sienna said, taking a seat between Chara and Caroline.

“Finally, my notes were starting to get repetitive,” Caroline griped.

«Caroline…» Frisk chastised.

Chara said nothing, but took a bite of their chocolate. They swallowed.

“Let’s get a move on then,” they said.

“Alright then,” Toriel said. “So we are all in agreement that the existence of Wizards cannot remain hidden any longer. But now we must agree on what is to be told about how they come to be.”

“I don’t think we should mention the dying aspect,” Caroline said. “There are those who could take advantage of the knowledge…”

“That is true, yes,” Toriel sighed. “So, as the only known Wizards in existence at this point in time, we ask what you would wish to be revealed.”

Silence.

“Why not simplify it?” Chara suggested. “Don’t say being killed does it, give…something that could lead to being killed.”

“Child abuse, perhaps,” Sienna mused. “And in my case at least, my powers were activated when m…an _old friend of mine_ threatened my life.”

“Mine came when a teacher grabbed my shoulders and threw me out of the classroom,” Caroline said. “Hm. Seems to be a theme…”

“More than a theme,” Gaster said. “Wizards are created when a child is first killed by a loved one, then enters a scenario in which they fear their life is being threatened. However, this must occur when the presence of Magic is in the aether.”

“So it’s like adrenaline that never completely wears off?” Caroline asked.

“In a sense, yes.”

Caroline took notes.

“So we’ll be telling the world that Wizards are made by abusing and bullying children?” Sienna clarified.

“I do suppose so,” Asgore said. “But should we explain that Chara and Frisk are different as they bear Red SOULs, or…?”

“Yeah, that would fly waaaay over most people’s heads,” Chara deadpanned. “So let’s keep it simple.”

A brief silence.

“They…have a point, I suppose,” Toriel acquiesced. “If acerbically stated…”

“I think we should make resources,” Caroline said. “Like a webpage or some pamphlets.”

“i’ll make the webpage,” Sans said with a shrug. “got the know-how ‘n all. caroline, you can make the pamphlets.”

The tall Wizard seemed rather uncomfortable - or was she flattered? It was hard to tell. “Eh…maybe _after_ we’ve outed Wizardry to the Muggle world.”

“fair enough.”

Frisk smiled.

More people with Magic would be able to get the help they deserve.

It filled them with **DETERMINATION.**

Chara felt…something.

They spotted a four-pointed star shining in the corner - a SAVE star.

Frisk saw it too.

The siblings smiled at each other.

* * *

“Good afternoon Ebott, I’m Kent Bray.”

“And I’m Keisha Noble, and we’re here live with the five o’clock news. First, the HWC’s membership is slowly but surely rising again after the 12% fall in membership in May. It has been projected that it will likely take until late next year to reach their previous peak if the growth continues at the current rate.”

A woman with light blonde hair in a sleek bob and baby blue eyes stood as she watched the television - she would be sitting on the couch in on her bed, but the movers hadn’t brought them in yet.

Then out of the corner of her eye…

…oh hell.

A mover was carrying a curio cabinet that was meant to fit into a corner. He was doing a well enough job.

However…

“CAREFUL WITH THOSE! THOSE ARE WORTH FIFTY OF YOUR PAYCHECKS!” the woman screeched.

The guy didn’t even flinch and kept moving.

Something about his lack of response made the woman angrier.

She growled and kept watching the news.

“…and before we get to the weather, we have just received word that Ambassador Frisk Dreemurr and their family will have announced a press conference to be held on the twenty-first of this month. No word on what it’s for, no doubt the world will be tuning in to see what it’s all about.”

“Thank you Keisha, now onto Sara Singh-Smith with the weather! How are we today Sara?”

* * *

“Okay, lastly, can you move them for me?”

Kristina closed her eyes and tried moving her wings.

She felt herself rise from the ground.

She opened one lilac eye anxiously.

Then she opened both eyes wide and smiled.

Finally, she was flying once again.

She fluttered about the room. The physical therapist was clearly debating whether or not to call her back down, but the bat-rabbit didn’t care.

She was _flying._

She did land after a moment. A bit harder than she’d wanted, but still rather clean after two and a half months of no practice.

The physical therapist blinked.

“…O…kay then,” she said. “Well done Miss Ketal. I’ll see you…next time…”

Kristina smiled and nodded and she skipped out the door of the office.

She was very much surprised to find - not her father waiting for her, but Nicko.

Her face flushed.

Nicko smiled at her.

Oh dear. Was it just her or did her heart stop? Is this what cardiac arrest feels like? Because it was hot. Very very hot. Oh dear.

She walked up to him anxiously. How she managed not to fall on her face she had no idea but stars above was she thankful she didn’t.

Words escaped her.

Nicko just led her out of the building and went for a walk.

“Your dad’ll be back in a bit,” he said.

“I-I see,” Kristina squeaked.

Silence. Awkwardly comfortable, comfortably awkward silence.

It was strange. For a brief moment, against all natural laws, time seemed to stop.

But unlike most situations where natural laws are broken, the world was not ending.

In fact, it almost felt as though it was just beginning.

* * *

Chara wasn’t sure why they’d decided to read their old diary. But here they were.

They fought back the urge to cry.

Everything at once was coming back at them.

They looked at the photographs.

Did they really used to have such long hair? It was hard to really recall. But wow, they loved the outfits. They could probably remake them. Revamp them with more comfortable fabric. Maybe make them more gender-neutral?

Chara’s train of thought was abruptly derailed when they saw their Human family.

They let a few tears slip, but wiped them away just as quickly.

They could hear Will’s - their brother’s - voice - but his words escaped them.

* * *

_But even so they were filled with hope, and dreams, and_

_D E T E R M I N A T I O N_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any Dream Will Do - Andrew Lloyd Webber


	5. Everything Is Not As It Seems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wizards are revealed.

_ 10:27 A.M., August 21st, 20XS _

 

_ It’s a beautiful day outside. _

_ Birds are singing. _

_ Flowers are blooming. _

_ On days like these, kids like you… _

 

_ …are preparing to show the world something absolutely amazing. _

* * *

Frisk watched as Caroline rolled a few sparks between her fingers. She was doing this in the open - something she dared not do before now.

A few tech crew members looked on - some are clearly awed and curious, others are ambivalent, and others still are…avoiding them entirely.

“So Sienna’s not joining us,” Caroline stated rather than asked.

Frisk shook their head.

“She apparently had work to do,” Chara said. “Grownups…go figure.”

“Be that as it may, seems it’s up to me to be the poster child for Wizardry,” Caroline griped. “My Magic is easily the most poorly kept secret ever. People already suspect something. All that remains is to confirm their suspicions.”

“How ya gonna do that?”

“Magic, my dear Chara.”

“Did you just Sherlock me?”

“Yes.”

Frisk giggled.

* * *

“So why would you drag me to your office just to watch TV?”

“You asked me what I was, Officer. You’re about to find out.”

Nash stared at Sienna. The PI was all cool confidence and poise, red lips turned up in a smile.

Nash was anxious as hell. He should not be this anxious. Sure he was with an extremely attractive woman, but she was also probably a ghost. Did ghosts eat? Nash had no fucking clue.

A timer went off.

“Oh! Popcorn’s ready!” Sienna chimed. “Want any?”

Nash sighed. “What kind is it?”

“Kettle corn.”

“Sure then. Got any duck sauce packets?”

Sienna stared at him.

“Why the fuck?” she asked in complete confusion.

“To dip my popcorn in,” Nash replied as if this was normal Human behavior.

“…Least you don’t dip it in aioli,” Sienna muttered to herself as she got up to get it.

Nash stared after her in surprise.

She returned with three packets of duck sauce and threw them at him.

He scrambled to catch them.

The woman sat next to him and turned on the television.

“Should be starting soon,” she said. “So what do you do besides arrest people and dip popcorn in duck sauce?”

“Okay first of all, popcorn in duck sauce is  _ amazing,” _ Nash defended. “Second of all, cops don’t just  _ arrest _ people. We do patrol work and desk work too.”

“That’s nice, what do you do  _ besides _ all that junk?”

Nash sighed.

“Well…I scour junkyards for car parts,” he said.

“Really,” Sienna said, seemingly intrigued. “Any reason in particular, or are you just a hobbyist?”

“Eh, I’m thinking if I find enough parts I can make a whole.”

Sienna seemed to be scanning him. Looking through him. Picking away at him.

Nash looked away at the shaving cream commercial that was on.

* * *

The Schwartz family rarely had meals in the same dining room unless there was a major event of some sort.

Which made this particular lunch all the more uncomfortable since there was no event with press to which Leland or Sarabeth Schwartz was invited scheduled until October of that year.

The “family” consisted of 50-year-old Leland and his 33-year-old second wife Sarabeth, his 19-year-old daughter Krystal from his first marriage, and his 10-year-old son Sterling by Sarabeth. They never acknowledged each other outside of press events and social media. And frankly this suited them all just fine.

Schwartz was staring at the news on his tablet, expression tense.

Sarabeth was on her phone texting…whoever her latest stylist was.

Krystal was editing the twenty-third selfie she’d taken in the last half-hour and trying to decide which makeup palette to use for the next one.

Sterling was the only one actually eating, and even then one could easily tell he wasn’t quite into it.

All wondered why they had gathered, but none dared ask.

The silence was cold and tense.

Schwartz kept his eyes on the news and only the news.

* * *

Irma stared blankly at the television, volume maxed out, hair out of its usual prim-and-proper bun and straggly as hell, empty syringe sticking out from her left arm.

The news was important.

It was.

Her darling Leland said so.

Coming off the Stardust high was always euphoric. Like going downhill on a really fast roller coaster while on amphetamines but with less vomit and more sparkly blue.

She thought she saw some weird lights on the screen.

Probably just some UFOs. No biggie. Texas was full of those.

Long as her Leland wasn’t abducted everything was fine.

She was the only one allowed to abduct him.

She thought she saw Elaina sneak out the front door.

She brushed it off as a hallucination. Like the Bavarian stripper gnomes on the coffee table.

Those guys were a riot.

She blacked out before the news could come on.

* * *

Penelope was with Theo watching the television in the DeMartino house - the good one in Monica’s room.

“You realize there’s like fifteen minutes until she’s on right?” Theo asked drily.

“Uh-huh!” Penelope said enthusiastically, green eyes sparkling.

“…Want me to make some pizza poppers?”

“Yes please!”

Theo sighed and stood up to make the poppers.

After the Matt debacle, Penelope and Caroline had clearly become even closer than they already were. But they still, against all reason, were not together.

And it was grating on  _ everyone’s _ nerves.

Then the timer dinged and Theo took the poppers back to the room.

* * *

Randy was anxious.

He’d been granted the day off to support Caroline - his colleagues didn’t know the details, just that he was going to support his daughter at an event. Levi was wandering around filming everything - “a look behind the scenes” he called it. Sharona was beside Randy, holding his hand. The display of affection calmed him greatly.

This woman was his rock, he swore it.

“Five minutes people, get in your places!” a crew member shouted.

People scrambled.

Randy sighed.

“Ready sweetie?” Sharona asked.

Randy spared her a smile.

“Yeah. Our girl needs us.”

“Then let’s go.”

* * *

Caroline stood on the podium before the microphone. She gazed out on the crowd.

She shifted her perspective to a spot above and beyond them all.

She mentally steeled herself.

And took a deep breath.

And spoke into the microphone.

“My name,” she began, “is Caroline Marlow. I was born in Colorado, and moved to Ebott in the summer of fourth grade, where I befriended Ambassador Frisk Dreemurr.”

Frisk smiled from their place to the side. Chara merely watched. Asriel stood between gis siblings and held their hands.

“I am here as a representative of a forgotten people,” the girl continued. “A people whose very existence bridged the divide between Humans and Monsters.”

People whispered and murmured. Cameras flashed.

Caroline further steeled herself.

This was it.

She raised her arm, stretching it outward to her side.

Pallas appeared.

The crowd gasped. Some shouted. Some screamed in terror.

“I am a Wizard,” Caroline said, voice filled with pride. “A Human with the ability to use Magic. Electricity, to be precise.”

The crowd was calmer than Caroline had anticipated. Some had run from the room. Some were glaring at Caroline with disgust, disdain. Some were in awe.

“Wizards,” Caroline continued, “are not born, but forcibly made. Wizards come to be from a childhood of abuse and bullying.”

The crowd was in an uproar. Even those who had been sickened by her were appropriately horrified.

“Mx. Dreemurr and their associates, myself included, will be answering any questions you may have on the subject of Wizards in a press conference scheduled for October. Thank you for your time.”

Caroline left the stage as the crowd reacted to the earth-shattering news.

* * *

Nash stared at Sienna. Sienna just watched the screen with a smile.

To say the officer had been floored by the news was an understatement.

“So…you’re  _ not _ a ghost?” he asked.

“No,” Sienna said. “And the proper term for it is Spirit. Ghosts are a type of Monster. Spirits are deceased Humans unable to pass on, so a fragment of their SOUL remains attached to a person, place, or thing until they’re ready.”

Nash blinked.

“I’m a Wizard, Nash. With Intangibility Magic.”

Nash let the information set in.

“So that’s how you…”

“Yep.”

“And the…”

“Yep.”

“Huh.”

“Yep.”

Silence.

“I’m, uh…sorry about -”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Sienna snapped coldly. “I don’t want pity. Understanding, yes. Patience, yes. Pity, you can take it and shove it up your ass. Pity doesn’t do shit.”

Nash was silent.

“Now, if that’s all, I have work to do,” Sienna said. “So take your duck popcorn and get out.”

Nash stood up and grabbed his things.

He stood in the doorway and turned around.

“Thanks for having me,” he said.

And then he left.

Sienna said nothing and got to work.

* * *

The blonde woman angrily slammed the oven door.

At the dining table sat a largish man with thinning dirty blond hair and brown eyes, a young teen boy with dirty blond hair under a navy blue beanie and brown eyes, and a petite girl in copious amounts of pink with long light blonde hair and light blue eyes.

“Susan, remember last time you did that?” the man asked.

“Bob, you  _ saw _ the news!” the woman snapped.

“We  _ all _ did,” the boy drawled. “If we’d stayed in Des Moines any longer I’d be a Wizard, ha.”

“Donovan!” Susan screeched.

“I know, I know,” the boy sighed as he rolled his eyes. He went up the stairs and came back down with a guitar case and went out the front door.

He paused at the sight across the street.

And smiled.

The new neighbor kids spotted him.

He waved at them.

Chara, Frisk, and Asriel waved back.

Donovan Schmidt was finally psyched about living here.

* * *

Later that night, Chara and Asriel were playing on their 3DSes.

Chara sent out their Level 78 shiny Trevenant, Aspen.

Asriel sent out his Level 80 Slurpuff, CottonCandy.

“Last one for both of us,” Asriel said.

“So it would seem,” Chara said. “Good luck baby bro~”

Asriel puffed his cheeks and pouted as the siblings each picked their Mon’s first move.

Aspen used Forest’s Curse. CottonCandy now has the Grass Type.

CottonCandy used Cotton Spore. Aspen’s Speed fell.

Aspen used Poison Jab. CottonCandy is now in the yellow, very close to red.

CottonCandy used Play Rough. Aspen was still in the green.

Aspen used Shadow Claw.

CottonCandy fainted.

Asriel groaned.

“I finally have thumbs again and I  _ still _ wind up losing…” he grumbled.

Chara snickered and noogied their brother.

Asriel bleated in surprise before laughing.

* * *

_ The truth, the change, the everything. All of it is filling you with _

_ D E T E R M I N A T I O N _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything Is Not As It Seems - Selena Gomez


	6. Superstition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wizards.
> 
> Wizards.
> 
> Wizards are real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year bitches.

_8:57 A.M., August 22nd, 20XS_

 

_It’s a beautiful morning outside._

_Birds are singing._

_The sun is rising._

_On mornings like this, kids like you…_

 

_…are keeping tabs on things._

* * *

“How many people who think they’re Wizards is that?”

“132,472 and counting…”

“And how many of them actually _are_ Wizards?”

“Uh…704. I think. Lemme check back…”

Caroline went back into her notebook, tired eyes squinting at the contents.

“Wait, nope. Nevermind. It’s 407.”

Chara groaned and slammed their head into the table. “This is _bullshit.”_

“That’s society for ya,” Caroline said. “I’m honestly wondering if Wizards are different from Humans from a physiological standpoint.”

“Why…?”

“When I last got my vitals checked the doctors were kinda amazed I was alive.”

Silence.

“When was this?” Chara asked.

“When I was seven.”

“You mean after your second Wizarding?”

“Yes.”

Silence.

Frisk was asleep at the computer. Face-first in the keyboard.

* * *

When Irma woke up she was not on the couch.

She was in the backyard swimming pool on a donut inner tube.

This was odd because the pool had been drained for maintenance yesterday. So concrete.

Irma stood up and walked inside, her head pounding.

The phone was ringing.

She growled and went to answer it.

“What?!”

 _“Irma, where the hell were you?!”_ came the voice on the other end. _“The news has been nuts since yesterday!”_

Irma blinked. “Was it the UFOs?”

_“Wh - no! Were you even watching the damn news?!”_

“Uhhh…”

_“Look, just check all the news. And cut back on the goddamn Stardust.”_

Irma hung up and checked the news.

She looked at all of it.

And fought the urge to vomit.

Wizards.

Wizards.

Wizards are real.

Irma didn’t even have to think.

She opened her tablet and booked a first-class flight for one to New York.

She didn’t even notice Elaina was gone.

* * *

“…and how many Wizards can be substantially confirmed?”

“Right now, a confirmed grand total of 432 Wizards exist, including Miss Marlow. No word on what the government plans on doing with this information, but Republican presidential candidate Gilbert Payne-Hardy is already adding it to his campaign platform.”

“Isn’t it a little early? The world just found out about them yesterday!”

“Well, as much as I agree, polls say 5.1% of those surveyed believe that Wizards are a part of the supposed ‘Monster Conspiracy’.”

“I see. And the other way?”

“32.6% are accepting of Wizards, the rest are undecided.”

“I see. Thank you Roland. Up next, Arkansas governor Woody Combs’ reaction to Wizards? Exactly what you would expect. More after the bre -”

The screen turned off.

The sound of scraping boulders echoed through the cavern.

“Ssssso Wizzzardsssssss have returned.”

Silence, but for the scraping boulders.

“It ssssssseemssss our plansssss will have to be adjussssssted sssssslightly.”

Silence, but for the scraping boulders.

“Nothing to ssssssssay?”

“I desire silence.”

“And I find the ssssssilence sssssssstifling.”

“Then go to where there is no silence.”

“Oh you are _sssssssssssuch_ a sssssssssspoilssssssport.”

“And you’re an idiotic little worm.”

Laughter came out. It sounded like a hissing viper.

* * *

HWC branches all across the nation were absolutely abuzz with fear.

Wizards.

Wizards.

Wizards are real.

And _any_ child could be one.

“They’re dangerous! They should be locked away!”

“They’re children who’ve been abused and bullied! Maybe they get Magic to protect themselves from that!”

“Monsters don’t need _protecting!”_

“These aren’t Monsters! These are _children!”_

There was no agreement. No amount of reason could possibly convince either side to give in to the other.

Were Wizards evil for having Magic? Or pitiful for being abused? For that matter, what kind of abuse would lead to a Wizard anyway? How much of it? How would they know a child was a Wizard?

Was it worth it to try to find out?

Nothing could be agreed on. Except one thing.

It would have to wait until the Founder decided.

The Founder’s word was law.

* * *

Toriel served up some chocolate chip pancakes to Frisk, Chara, Asriel, and Caroline.

Chara put some chocolate syrup on theirs. Frisk put on some Nutella and rainbow sprinkles. Asriel added some banana slices and Nutella to his. Caroline just put powdered sugar and syrup on hers as she dipped her tea sachet into the mug.

“Caroline, we’re eating pancakes, not French toast,” Chara teased.

“I know,” Caroline replied. “I don’t care.”

Silence.

“So school’s probably gonna be hectic since everyone and their mother knows it,” Chara said. “You’re a Wizard, Carrie~”

“Don’t call me that,” Caroline said coldly.

Her eyes changed as she said it. Her pupils disappeared completely.

Toriel gasped quietly.

She recognized this.

“…Chara, perhaps don’t call her that?”

Chara looked at Caroline.

Their eyes widened.

She seemed…defensive. Almost afraid.

“…Okay. Sorry.”

Caroline sighed.

“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “Just… _please_ never call me Carrie.”

“Got it.”

«But they do have a point…» Frisk signed nervously. «You will probably be bombarded with questions that’ll make you uncomfortable…»

“Well, if I do then I’ll come up with something,” Caroline said dismissively. “I knew what I would be getting into. Whatever happens happens at this point.”

“But Caroline, you’re gonna get a _lot_ of negative attention…” Asriel managed.

“I can handle it, Asriel.”

And with that Caroline seemed to consider the conversation over.

The Dreemurr siblings looked at each other and back at Caroline.

She was eating her powdered sugar chocolate chip pancakes casually.

* * *

Hoover sat before the big wooden desk. The name placard on it said that the large, beefy Human man with graying light brown hair and blue-gray eyes in a suit before him was Herbert Coleman, Chief of Mountainside Police.

Hoover wasn’t a meek man - he was the one people were afraid of usually. But sit him before someone in a position of superiority and he’s cowed.

“You know you’re here today Hoover?” Coleman asked, voice rough.

“Can’t say I do sir,” Hoover replied.

“We’re gonna discuss what to do about Wizards.”

Hoover was silent.

“Now PR’s at an all-time low from the school shooting in may,” Coleman explained. “So for now we’re gonna wait until we know more.”

Hoover mentally sighed with relief.

“So I want you to have extra men on patrol in areas with high amounts of Monsters.”

Fuck.

“Uh, sir, r-remember last time you did that?” Hoover managed.

“…Dammit, you’re right,” Coleman grumbled, swiping stuff off his desk. “Fuck it. Just go. I’ll tell you when I’ve got another one.”

Hoover got up and left quietly.

He was not looking forward to the coming weeks.

* * *

Susan drove the Volvo out of the event center parking lot.

She looked in the rearview mirror at the little girl of perhaps ten or eleven with buttery blonde hair and baby blue eyes in a poofy pink dress, a white sash with gold cursive letters across her body and a little sparky tiara on her head. The little girl had a vacant expression, but Susan only found it endearing.

“Ready to go home now Rebekah?” Susan asked, voice sickly-syrupy-sweet.

The girl nodded silently, expression unchanging.

Susan smiled and cooed a little before focusing on the road again.

Her sweet little Becky. Such a sweet little doll. Why couldn’t Donovan be more like her anyway? Why did he have to be so _uppity?_ If he would just do as she said they wouldn’t have so many fights.

But enough of that.

Susan stole glances at little Becky in the back seat.

The girl’s vacant expression soothed her frazzled nerves.

Then she pulled into the driveway.

Just as she exited the car, she saw something in her peripheral vision.

She did a double-take - she could _not_ be seeing right. She _had_ to be hallucinating.

But no.

No matter how she tried, she knew it was true.

* * *

Toriel looked up from her gardening at the screaming woman across the street.

Sans was feigning sleep in the deck chair. Frisk, Chara, and Asriel were playing tag, stopping their fun when they heard the scream.

Susan stared at them all.

The Gaster-Dreemurrs stared back.

Chara smiled sweetly.

But _something_ about it filled Susan with a horrendous dread.

She reached into the back seat and unbuckled Becky, picking her up and carrying her inside as she gave her new neighbors a glare that combined anger and indignation with a hint of fear.

For a brief moment, Becky locked eyes with the three Dreemurr children.

Asriel offered a wave before Susan shut the door.

He awkwardly lowered his hand.

Silence.

“Well that was certainly interesting!” Chara chimed.

“Of course you’d think that…” Asriel mumbled.

* * *

_The changing world around you has you filled with_

_D E T E R M I N A T I O N_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Superstition - Stevie Wonder


	7. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wizard stuff is calming down a little. Probably. You got more Eddie in here. And some new kids in town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for implied violence and use of deadname. Viewer discretion is advised.

_11:43 A.M., August 27th, 20XS_

 

_It’s a muggy day outside._

_Bugs are buzzing._

_Asphalt is sticky._

_On days like this, kids like you…_

 

_…are finishing summer homework._

* * *

Frisk had no idea how Sans managed to pull off such a level of procrastination. But he did. Always and without fail.

They wanted so very badly to take a break, but they had to finish. They were so.

So.

So.

Close.

Just one more paragraph. That’s all. Then they’d be done.

They were in a group text with Hunter, Brian, Eddie, and MK. Of the seventh graders in Book Club, they were the only ones who weren’t done with the summer book report yet.

Why. Why did they have to read this.

Walk Two Moons was so _boring._

Then their phone rang.

They checked it.

Eddie?

They couldn’t exactly verbalize, so why…?

Maybe he was gonna play Despacito on his guitar again.

Frisk answered in case that was it.

_“Hola!”_

Frisk blinked.

That was not Eddie. It was two children.

_“Are you Eddie’s bae?”_

_“Coco, you don’t just aks that! Hey, are you single?”_

_“Glen, no!”_

_“Oye! Gimme that!”_

Frisk fought giggles as the phone hung up.

_Eddie.txt: sorry! my little brother and sister got my phone while I got lunch._

_Brian.txt: u hav siblings_

_Eddie.txt: yeah! five! u guys just heard the youngest, glen and coco! theyre twins! im babysitting them before i have to take them to a birthday party…_

_MK.txt: Duuuude! That’s a lot of siblings!_

_Eddie.txt: Mi primo Juan Carlos has eight kids. This is weaksauce._

_Hunter.txt: his poor wife_

_Frisk.txt: Wow! So many primos…! OvO_

Frisk giggled as they kept getting texts from everyone.

At least they weren’t the _only_ ones stuck with this…

* * *

“So how many Wizards confirmed now?” Chara asked.

“523,” Toriel said.

“That’s a lot,” Caroline noted drily. “And how are we to prove the veracity of these potential Wizards?”

“A census could be carried out,” Toriel said, quite possibly to herself. “Perhaps we could trace them and have Sienna read for Magic…?”

“Or me?” Caroline suggested, seeming hopeful.

“After last time you ran off?” Toriel sighed. “I think not.”

“That was _completely_ different! You guys had to _look_ for me! This time you’ll know exactly where I am, and I have my own way of getting back!”

“Caroline, you will _not_ be wandering off to parts unknown to look for Wizards. It’s _dangerous.”_

“You say that like it’s stopped me before.”

Toriel sighed wearily. She had to commend Randy and Sharona - how they handled such a stubborn child she’d never know, but she would have to get used to it with Chara back. They could be just as stubborn. And adding Frisk into the mix…

“I will…consider it,” Toriel acquiesced. “But _only_ if -”

“I finished all my summer homework in July,” Caroline said. “I also cleaned my room and organized the attic. _And_ I can charge my phone _and_ my dad’s and Levi’s without setting _any_ of them on fire.”

Toriel gave Caroline a look.

The Wizard either didn’t understand or didn’t notice in her sheer eagerness.

“You do realize you have school starting on the thirty-first, correct?” Toriel reminded.

“Your point?”

“I will not allow you to compromise your education for this.”

“How is it any different from Frisk doing politics?”

Silence.

“…It shall be up to your parents.”

“Okay.”

* * *

“99 bottles of beer on the wall~ 99 bottles of beer~ You take one down~ Pass it around~ 98 bottles of beer on the wall~”

“Hey Channing, I think this is a new record.”

“Same here Tatum. We started at 200, now look where we are.”

“Hiding from a bedwetting wanker?”

“Yes.”

A sigh in unholy unison.

Twin youths, brown-haired and blue-eyed, one in a powder blue sundress, the other in a powder blue polo with khaki shorts, continued to sing in harmony.

“Finally I fucking find you creepy little shits!”

The youths, Channing and Tatum, look up at the speaker.

A blond boy with blue eyes the same age as them stood before them, sweaty with exertion.

“Oh, hey Tanner,” the twin in the sundress, Channing, said.

“What brings you back here?” the other twin, Tatum, asked.

“You know why you creeps!” Tanner growled.

Channing and Tatum looked confused for a moment.

Tanner took the opportunity to throw a punch.

The twins dodged and ran.

“HEY! GET BACK HERE!” Tanner roared.

“Make us!” the twins mocked in unison, turning around and sticking their tongues out at Tannerin perfect sync.

Tanner roared even louder and ran after them.

The chase was on.

* * *

The HWC was no longer in a tizzy over Wizards.

It had taken a simple “Magic is evil no matter what” and that was that.

It caused an 8% drop in membership. Nothing too significant, but it was noticeable.

And there was still a schism. Still questions.

“What if a member has a child who’s a Wizard? What’ll happen to it?”

“What if a member _is_ a Wizard? Should we kick it out?”

“What do we do if we see a Wizard on the street? Defend ourselves before it can attack?”

“Wait, how do we know if someone’s a Wizard? What if we think it’s a Wizard but it's a Human and we get in trouble?”

It was almost too much.

Schwartz sent out a statement that all of the questions would be answered in time.

It wouldn’t. It was just to shut them up.

One of the biggest rules of politics. Say and do anything to shut them up.

He swung his golf club.

Bad shot.

But with the applause you’d think he’d made a hole-in-one.

* * *

Brooke reviewed her summer homework.

She’d finished it last month, but she couldn’t _not_ split hairs over it. She had to go over it three times _or else._

This was thankfully the third go-over.

When she finished she stretched and got off her bed and went to light some incense.

She opened the box.

Empty.

This can’t be right. She got new incense sticks just this past weekend, and she only used nine of the 45.

She sighed.

She didn’t want to, but she knew she had to. Because it was the only way she could actually know for certain.

She went downstairs to talk to her father.

“Todd, where’s the incense I just bought?”

Todd looked up. Blue eyes glared back.

“I threw ‘em out,” he said. “They were stinking up the place.”

“They were _inside of a box. In my bedroom.”_

“Well either get a new box or stop buying that shit.”

“Either don’t throw out my stuff or don’t rummage through my room.”

“You talkin’ back to me?”

“No, I’m offering you an easy deal.”

Todd growled.

“Just get out.”

“Okay.”

Brooke grabbed her gym bag and left the house.

She’d come back in a few hours.

She always did.

* * *

Frisk looked at their homework.

Just one.

More.

Paragraph.

And then they’d be done.

So why.

Why were they freezing up.

They chewed the nails on their left hand and tapped the paper with their eraser using their right.

Think.

Think.

Thiiiiiink.

“The last paragraph is just a summary of all the others.”

Frisk looked up at Caroline.

Caroline looked down at their nearly-finished book report.

“You also misspelled a few words here and there,” she noted. “How many pages is it.”

«Just this one, front and back,» Frisk signed.

Caroline looked over it.

She took out a pen.

“You have five misspellings on this side, making for eight in all,” she explained, pointing to each error. “And for your punctuation, this is a period. It needs to be a comma.”

Frisk stared at each place Caroline pointed at.

They looked up at Caroline.

«Did you finish yours already?»

“Yes.”

«Back in June?»

“Yes.”

Frisk slammed their head on the table.

Caroline sighed.

“Stay **DETERMINED** ,” she said. “It’s just a few more sentences and you’re through. Okay?”

Frisk sat up ramrod straight.

Their face was filled with the light if **DETERMINATION**.

FILE:SAVE

* * *

Eddie sat down at a table with the other parents at the party.

He was the only living being under 21 and over 7. But he could manage. He always did.

He took out his Switch and broke into Smash.

Oh Pikachu. He’ll never main anyone else. Besides maybe Bayonetta or Yoshi or Mr. Game-and-Watch or Diddy Kong.

Okay, maybe he also snuck peeks at the gymnasts on the other side of the plexiglass from time to time. He sent a silent prayer of thanks for Wanda’s decision to have little Amelia’s birthday party at the gymnastics center.

He was especially watching a girl with blonde hair tied into a cute little ponytail and focused gaze. She was a dream on the balance beam.

She also seemed familiar…

Then she managed to catch his gaze.

Oh man. _That’s_ why she seemed familiar.

Brooke Lane. One of Alicia’s lackeys.

She stared at him, seeming to recognize him as well.

Eddie winked at her and waggled his eyebrows.

She turned up one of the corners of her mouth in a sort of sneer and went back to her gymnastics.

Eddie blinked. That usually worked. On girls at least. Guys were usually the ones who reacted like that. This was weird.

He smirked.

This would probably be a challenge.

He was looking forward to this.

He successfully rekt Mario and put away his Switch and chose to wander around.

Upside of being in the middle - more opportunity for shenanigans.

He wandered through the lobby and came across an award case.

Some of these were from way back - like nearly a hundred years ago.

He paused near the end.

Brooke was in every picture from the last few years. Gold medals and first-place ribbons and trophies with her name on them.

She’s good.

He shrugs it off and walks back to the kids’ party area.

* * *

Channing and Tatum kept running, not once splitting up - they’ve seen Scooby-Doo enough tines to know that will only delay the inevitable.

Tanner chased them, face even redder and sweatier than ever.

The twins turned and twisted and tucked over and under various obstacles.

Tanner hulk-smashed various bits of pottery as he chased them.

“Why…is no one…stopping…the big…oaf…?” Channing griped through labored breaths.

“Because…they’re sca…scared of his…puh…parents…” Tatum replied wheezily.

The twins kept running.

Until they reached a dead end.

They turned around slowly.

Tanner had an absolutely manic grin.

“Finally, I have you shitty little creeps right where I wantcha!” he spat.

He pounded his fist into his hand.

“Who’s first?”

The twins looked at each other.

“Me,” they said in unholy unison.

Tanner roared in anger and threw a random punch.

The twins closed their eyes.

No hit connected.

Channing slowly opened her eyes.

Tanner’s legs were encased in ice.

He was staring at them, eyes full of fear and anger.

Tatum opened his eyes.

They twins looked at each other in fear.

And ran.

Tanner strained and struggled, starting to foam at the mouth angrily.

“GET BACK HERE YOU FREAKS!” he roared.

Channing and Tatum were too far away to hear him.

They found the pool house and got in, slamming the door behind them.

Minutes passed.

“…We’re gonna die aren’t we,” Tatum said.

“Probably,” Channing managed.

“But…”

“Just what _happened?”_

“Was…was it…”

“No, impossible…Mom’s flighty, but she’s not…”

“Yeah, and Grandma’s angry a lot but she never…”

“But kids at school…”

“And Tanner…”

“Can it be…?”

The twins looked at each other fearfully.

They looked at their hands.

And focused.

Ice spread outward on their hands and arms.

Random objects froze.

They looked at each other.

The Wizards’ eyes widened.

* * *

Late that night, Chara was running.

Running through a darkened hallway.

They weren’t wearing their striped sweater eith shorts and tights. They weren’t wearing their pajamas.

They were wearing a sailor dress. And their hair was long, tied with a big white bow.

It wasn’t them.

Not anymore.

It hadn’t been them for a hundred years.

They suddenly hit a precipice.

And fell down a flight of stairs.

They heard a snap, and felt a burst of pain in their leg before hitting the bottom.

They looked up the stairwell.

Cold eyes gazed down at them, slowly coming closer.

_“You’ve disappointed me Charity.”_

That’s not their name.

They looked up at the speaker. They could see the stained and tarnished gun-cleaning rod in his hands.

Their glare was as hard as it could be.

_“I’ll not have you spreading your devil influence among my flock any longer, you filthy demon.”_

Hiram stood above them, rod poised to strike.

Chara woke up as the rod met their torso.

They felt their body.

Bob cut. Tank top and basketball shorts.

Foot bent inward at the ankle.

This was them.

They sighed.

They were free.

They should be free. Even more now that Hiram was long dead.

So why did they still feel like this?

* * *

_You are free. You can only become freer with time._

_This fills you with_

_D E T E R M I N A T I O N_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changes - Phil Ochs


	8. A Day In The Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day of school. Characters new and old. Pretty boring for how long it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bicthm

_7:30 A.M., August 31, 20XS_

 

_It’s a beautiful morning outside._

_The sun is rising._

_Busses are running._

_On days like this, kids like you…_

 

_…are reaching for the snooze button._

* * *

Frisk groaned and felt their bedside table for the ringing alarm clock.

They gasped and pulled their hand away as Chara slammed a fist on the alarm clock.

…At least they hit the snooze button.

Frisk sat up and blinked, squinting as they looked around the room.

They had the bottom bunk of the three-layer bunk bed. Chara and Asriel tended to fight for the middle and top bunks. Chara won most of the time unless they let Asriel win like they had last night.

Asriel moaned and dangled his legs over the edge of the bed.

He stepped off the bed -

“BAAA!”

**WHOMP**

…and fell onto the floor.

“…I’m okay.”

Frisk helped Asriel up and looked for their clothes.

…They couldn’t find their clothes.

They willed themself not to panic.

Failing that, they tried not to panic _too_ hard.

They failed a little less.

“Check the chair at your desk,” Chara groaned.

Frisk blinked and did so.

They gasped.

It was an aqua short-sleeved hoodie with two purple stripes, and little yellow rubber star charms on the ties with dark gray jean shorts, black and rainbow striped tights, and brown boots.

They jumped onto the second bunk and snuggled Chara.

Who then gently pushed them off.

Chara sat up. They were _not_ a morning enby.

They got down from their bunk without using the ladder, favoring their left leg slightly. They changed into a black buttondown shirt with a green sweater vest with a single gold stripe, paired with khaki shorts, black tights, and brown boots.

Asriel had already changed into a surfing Pikachu t-shirt and black jeans with red hi-top shoes.

They all went downstairs for breakfast.

The sight that awaited them? Chocolate chip pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, and chocolate milk - with extra chocolate for Chara.

At each place was their individual class schedules.

The smell of chocolate chip pancakes filled the Dreemurr siblings with **DETERMINATION**.

FILE: SAVE

Toriel looked on with a smile.

Sans appeared next to her, his own everlasting smile just that little bit realer.

This was going to be a good year indeed.

* * *

Caroline tied her bootlaces and stood up.

She’d gotten taller again. She just knew it.

But no matter.

Caroline went to the bathroom and adjusted her new dress.

Sharona had been pretty excited when Caroline had expressed her…aesthetic preference. She enthusiastically went online with her and browsed for some clothes she would like when they found a simple black dress with a white collar. Caroline declared it perfect - simple, yet elegant. She’d opted to pair it with white tights and black boots.

Perfect.

This was more like…her.

She grabbed her backpack, a copy of 1001 Nights, her schedule, and a thermos of tea before deciding whether to walk to the bus stop or use her Magic to zap herself there.

She decided on the former. Best to not trouble the touchy ones by traumatizing them on the first day of school.

* * *

Jenson stared up at the immense brick building, aged and worn from over a century of existence. Stairs led to the double doors at the front.

The letters engraved above the entryway said all he needed to know about this place:

**Ebott High School**

**Est. 1894**

He stretched, his spine giving a very satisfying pop.

He walked in the doors and took out his schedule.

First class of the day was Freshman Seminar. Same as all the other incoming freshmen.

He sat down in a desk near the middle. He always did. It was perfect - close enough to the front that teachers think he’s interested, close enough to the back that they won’t notice he’s high as a kite.

He watched as more kids filed in the room. He saw a few he recognized from North Middle, others he had never seen before in his life.

Some of the ones he knew greeted him. None of them sat by him though.

Then one did.

He turned to Sarah Ward and smiled.

“Hey babe,” he greeted.

“How high are you?” she asked casually.

“One.”

“Okay, don’t go past three, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

After a bit Almsal came in and sat in behind Jenson.

Jenson nodded at him.

Almsal merely blinked his three eyes and took out his binder.

“Hey guys!”

Audrey and Jayme entered the classroom together - not an unusual sight by any means. They’d been close since the summer before eighth grade.

“Sup,” Sarah Ward said.

“So we still on for the plan?” Jayme asked.

“What plan?” Jenson asked.

The others stared at him.

“…The one where we start a Book Club here,” Sarah Ward said. “Remember?”

The cogs in Jenson’s head turned. Soon the hempy haze hounding his head cleared enough for him to see.

“Oh yeah, thaaaat,” he said. “Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, I got some signatures already - older siblings of other Book Club members actually,” Audrey said. “One of them is Scarlett’s older sibling, and the other is - get this - Courtney’s sister. Who is apparently dating Scarlett’s sibling.”

“Damn.”

“And we also got a few _jocks_ to sign up.”

_“There’s_ a shock,” Sarah Ward sassed. “Remember we got like half the soccer team in back at the middle school?”

“Yeah, but these are _football players,”_ Jayme pointed out.

“Damn. Okay then.”

Jenson leaned back in his seat and stared up at the ceiling.

It seemed to pulsate slowly, as if it was a stomach digesting all within it.

“This place is alive,” he said. “It’s a body, and we’re just food - and when we graduate we’re gonna turn to shit.”

Silence.

“Okay, you are definitely higher than a three.”

* * *

On entering the halls of North Middle School, the effects of the events of May 27th weren’t so much seen as felt.

Tension hung heavy in the air.

But everyone ignored it.

At least they appeared to.

Things like that you don’t just forget.

Maybe that’s why Matt’s locker is being avoided.

* * *

Alicia sashayed into room A142 and sat at a random desk.

New red dress, just barely in dress code. Sheer black tights with black high-heeled booties. Hair put up in her favored high ponytail. She had also put on brand new gold hoop earrings and matching bracelet and choker.

She felt the stares. And revelled in them.

She leaned back in her chair and crossed one leg over the other coyly. Just as she was taught.

She tilted her head up to look down at the fawning peasants around her -

OH HELL NO.

NO.

NOT AGAIN.

Alicia fought back screeches at the sight of Frisk Dreemurr.

Especially since all the students were now looking at them and greeting them and their siblings.

Alicia felt sick to her stomach as she watched Frisk do that flappy thing with their hands that people seemed to think was them talking.

Then Hunter Thompson walked in.

Everyone greeted him too - he seemed a bit uncomfortable, but Frisk and their siblings seemed to make this better.

Soon more of Frisk’s friends came in - that buff kid with a new tattoo every day, his Monster girlfriend, his Mexican friend, and one of Miranda’s ex-lackeys.

It was a freak show unlike any Alicia had ever seen.

Alicia locked eyes with Frisk’s - sister?

Their face…changed.

Alicia ran out of the classroom screaming.

What else did one do at the sight of a kid’s smiling face oozing…blood? Blood isn’t black -

She grabbed the nearest teacher - a Human man with curly graying dark hair and facial hair and a natural tan in a pink striped shirt and khaki pants - by the wrist.

“TEACHERCOMEQUICKLYSOMEPOSSESSEDFREAKMADEACREEPYFACEAND -”

“Calm down.”

Whoa. Deep voice.

Alicia shut up, but she did not calm down.

“Now. Let go of me if you’d please.”

Alicia let go. This teacher scared her.

The teacher then went to…

…room A142.

Alicia followed in a huff and sat back down in her seat.

The teacher stood in front of the class and picked up some chalk.

“Hello students,” he said, voice practically reverberating through the room. “I am Mr. Hester, and I am your seventh grade math teacher.”

Alicia was filled with horror.

Mr. Hester passed out some papers.

“I want you all to fill these out, then introduce yourselves to the class if you want. And by ‘I want you to fill these out’ what I _really_ mean is ‘this is going be the easiest A of the semester’. Yes you are being graded on this.”

Yep. Alicia _hated_ this guy.

But she did it anyway. Only so she could feel the eyes of the rabble upon her.

Before long everyone finished.

Frisk’s siblings, sitting in the front, went first.

The goatish one was up.

“Uh, h-howdy,” he stammered. “I-I’m Asriel Dreemurr…”

Some kids gasped. Others cooed at how adorable he was - seriously? He’s a _goat,_ they eat _trash._

“I, uh…like playing video games, and uh, spending time with my siblings…my birthday is uh…June thirtieth? And uh…my favorite food is -”

“Trash?” Alicia piped with a smug grin.

A few kids tittered.

“…patty melts.”

“Yeah, not everyone has _your_ favorite food Alicia,” Frisk’s Human sibling snarked.

Some kids laughed.

Alicia gave an indignant shriek and glared at the Human as the sat down next to them.

Then the Human got up.

Getting a good look at them, Alicia saw that they were quite attractive, if you considered a bun ankle, wide unblinking red eyes and a permanent smile that implies mischief ahead attractive.

“Greetings. I am Chara Dreemurr. I like animals, making clothes, and chocolate. My favorite food is dark chocolate.”

As Chara walked back to their spot Alicia glared.

Chara ignored her.

That just made Alicia angrier.

But that just made her even _more_ determined to make this year _her_ year.

She was going to take those Dreemurrs _down._

* * *

Penelope was filled with happiness.

Same first period class as Caroline.

It was great.

Wonderful.

“Hey Penelope!”

Penelope looked up.

“Julia! Hi!” she greeted. “How are you?”

“Pretty good! Is Book Club still a thing?”

“Yep!”

“Awesome! Hey Prez!”

Caroline was too busy reading.

Then she looked up and blinked.

“Oh, you mean me?” she asked.

“Yeah? Who else would I mean?”

Caroline shrugged.

The door slammed open.

Smells like Axe Body Spray.

Scott walked in and sat down in the back corner.

Miranda had been sitting nearby.

She sneered at him, got up, and walked to another seat on the opposite side of the room.

Scott seemed…genuinely hurt for maybe half a second.

Then it turned into a pubescent scowl.

No one was happy.

Except Penelope.

And maybe, just maybe, Caroline.

If only there was a way to rid the classroom of the overwhelming stench of Axe hanging in the air.

* * *

Sans sat in his office at the university going over the list of students on his schedule.

Next semester he’d need another class or two to accommodate all the incoming prospects. No idea why _he_ was popular.

But maybe that was why Carlson was so glare-y today.

He sighed and decided to check the news during this lull in activity.

…Lot of articles about the same guy.

_Jack Shit._

He sighed and checked other stuff.

Then his phone pinged - an email notification.

He sighed and unlocked his phone.

…Huh.

He managed a small grin as the alarm for his next class went off.

There’s some news to tell the wife and kids.

…Wow. Never thought he’d say _that._

But he sure as hell wasn’t complaining.

He stepped out of his office with his laptop bag sling over his shoulder and strolled past Carlson.

He gave the statistics professor a wink with his left eye.

Carlson’s face tightened as if Sans had just given him Magical botox injections.

Sans felt a bit of schadenfreude at the sight as he went on his way.

* * *

Brooke sat down in her third period U.S. History class and took out her three-ring binder. It was blue - her lucky color - with a mandala design in the cover.

She followed the directions on the board and waited.

Then red marred her vision.

She looked up, keeping her face even as she did.

Alicia’s face was full of rage.

“What the fuck,” she hissed.

“Class starts in a bit,” Brooke said evenly, hoping her fear wasn’t as visible as it felt.

Alicia’s face managed to get even angrier. Her nostrils made strange fluttering motions - like they were trying to flare but something stopped them.

“Don’t talk to _me_ like I’m a _peasant!”_ Alicia snapped. “I have been trying to text you _all summer_ and you _never texted back!”_

“My number changed,” Brooke countered. “I tried to text you the new number but you ignored it.”

“Don't try to blame _me_ for _your_ problems!”

“Say, don’t you have other “friends” besides me? Like Rachel?”

“THAT’S DIFFERENT!”

“Explain how.”

Alicia growled and gripped the sides of Brooke’s desk.

Then some whispers were heard.

Alicia glared at Brooke as she moved to a spot on the opposite end of the room - meaning the back of the classroom as opposed to the front.

Whispers continued.

She felt herself tense involuntarily as that one kid from Book Club sat next to her.

The one who flirted at her from the part of the gymnastics center from where little kids have birthday parties.

She moved a few seats over to the far part of the front row toward the window.

He moved over so he was one seat away from her.

He waggled his eyebrows.

Brooke scoffed and went back to her work.

She and everyone else watched discreetly as Scott entered the room and sat by Alicia.

Alicia didn’t move for some reason, even if she looked like she wanted to.

Soon a Monster girl made of water took the seat between her and the creeper, and a rabbity-looking one with bat wings was on the other side of him.

Brooke just did her work silently, wondering if it was worth it to move a few rows back just to get away from the Book Clubbers.

* * *

Linda put the quiche in the oven and closed the door before taking a sip of her mimosa and a drag of her fifth cigarette.

Three months and Richard had only moved back into the bedroom a week ago. They’d reached an…agreement. Of sorts. One more “Big Case” and he’s done.

Those don’t come more than once every couple of years. Gives Linda enough time to…

…to what? She briefly considered something that was against God’s teachings. So her  husband was going to lose the reason she married him. It wasn’t her fault he was thinking of quitting his job for the sake of the kids!

Really, she shouldn’t have had kids in the first place. But it was too late. She was just biding her time until they were eighteen so she could kick them out and she and Richard could go on their second honeymoon.

It was a surprise - he was going to love it she was sure.

If he didn’t, so what. He’d come around. He always did.

She’d make sure he did.

“But what if he doesn’t?”

Linda crushed the cigarette between her fingers, the ash dropping to the tile floor.

“He will,” she said, voice much higher and smaller than she would have liked.

“Uh-huh, you thought the same about me I’m sure,” Estelle dismissed. “And look at me now. Forever young while you got frown lines growin’.”

“I DO NOT HAVE FROWN LINES!” Linda screamed as she threw her mimosa at the floor and stamped her foot.

She didn’t even realize she’d spilled mimosa all over the floor and shattered the glass.

Until she did.

“LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO!” she screeched.

“I didn’t make you a chansmokin’ alcoholic,” Estelle deadpanned, sitting on the counter and inspecting her nails. “That’s all on you. Really, that smokin’ you do’s gonna give those kids of yours cancer -”

“That’s bullshit!” Linda snapped. “Children can’t get cancer!”

Estelle just stared at Linda with a look that screamed “are you fucking serious? are you actually that fucking stupid?”

Then she shook her head because she had learned a long time ago that yes, Linda was indeed that fucking stupid.

“Don’t look at me like I’m some crazy person!”

“I was lookin’ at you like you’re fucking stupid,” Estelle explained.

Linda screamed and threw a mixing bowl at Estelle.

Estelle was nowhere to be seen. There was only spinach-y egg-y glop splattered on the granite countertop.

Linda heard the smoke alarm go off.

She screamed angrily.

* * *

Chara leaned back into the giant stuffed badger in the library.

They loved this part of the school for this exact reason.

I mean really. Giant badgers. Why can’t the teachers be replaced with giant badgers?

Oh yeah. Racism.

Right.

Chara relaxed and crossed their right leg over their left, sighing with mild contentment.

Ah well. Giant stuffed badger.

They mentally decided to call it Norbert.

“Hey.”

Chara looked to the couch next to the badger.

Caroline was sitting there, leaning into the arm of the couch with her legs folded up to her. She was, of course, reading.

“Hey,” Chara responded.

“How’s your first day going?” Caroline asked.

“I have math with _Alicia.”_

“Drama with Scott and Miranda. But at least Penelope’s there too, so it’s not a _total_ bust.”

“Did you already eat lunch or…?”

Caroline’s expression grew tense.

“They _bombarded_ me Chara,” she hissed dramatically. “They kept asking what it’s like being a Wizard. They kept asking to see my powers. They kept asking for _Book Club membership applications.”_

The way she said the last sentence made it seem like it was the worst thing in the world.

“I mean yeah, Book Club’s already massive, but how many left for high school?” Chara asked.

“Out of forty-two, twelve. And I had to give out _thirty-six_ applications…”

“Holy hell how many’s that give us?”

“Fifty-six,” Caroline groaned “I’m gonna _die.”_

“Been there done that.”

“Yep.”

Both misanthropes sighed.

“So are all those people gonna fit in the classroom?”

“Damn if I know. I’m more concerned about whether or not there’ll be enough cupcakes…”

“Yeah, enough for all of us when the meetings are over.”

“Of course.”

Silence.

“So what class do you have after this?” Caroline asked.

“Computer Science,” Chara said, scrunching their nose a bit. “Least I have it with Frisk and Azzy.”

“U.S. History,” Caroline said. “The one core class that _isn’t_ honors…seriously, it’s not _my_ fault my academic superiority intimidates the average person…”

“That’s not the only thing that does it, but okay.”

“Hmm.”

Frisk, Asriel, and MK came in the library and sat down.

“Hey,” Chara said. “What’s up?”

“Alicia pretty much declared war on Brooke Lane in third period!” MK announced. “I was totally there when it happened! So were Penelope and Tina and Marilla and Eddie - they can tell you all about it!”

“Wasn’t Brooke Alicia’s most loyal subject?” Caroline asked.

“Yeah! That’s what makes it so weird!”

“Maybe they had a fight over the summer?” Asriel suggested.

«Maybe it was a misunderstanding,» Frisk added.

“Oh! There’s Marilla and Kristina! They were there too! You can ask them!” MK piped.

Marilla and Kristina walked in with Bruce and Nicko.

Tina and Nicko’s holding hands did not go unnoticed.

“Hey guys,” Chara greeted.

“U-um, h-hello,” Kristina managed.

«So you two finally got together, eh?» Frisk signed with a smirk.

Kristina blushed and started chittering and squeaking like no tomorrow.

Nicko just shook his head.

“Eyyy, guys! Didn’t know you two were dating yet!”

Eddie arrived at that moment, an odd spring in his step.

More of one than usual anyway.

Nicko just glared at him.

“So what’s got _you_ pumped?” Chara asked.

“Oh nothing~” he sang. “Just have a little… _challenge_ on my hands!”

Nicko just kept staring at him.

“Que? What’re you looking at me like that for mang?” Eddie asked with a cheerful defensiveness.

“Male or female?” Nicko asked.

“Whoooa, British accent!” Chara noted.

“Yeah, he moved here from Dude Chester in second grade!” Eddie said.

“Manchester,” Nicko grumbled. “I’m Mancunian.”

“But you’re white. I thought that was in China?”

“No, that’s Manchurian,” Caroline explained. “Mancunian is a demonym for someone who hails from Manchester in England.”

“Demonym? You’re a demon?!”

“No, _I’m_ a demon,” Chara corrected. “But I _am_ half-French.”

“Dude, just tell us who you’re gonna date this time,” Bruce sighed, clearly done with his  friend’s shit.

“Not that it matters to me, but this is a girl and her name is Brooke,” Edie said.

Silence.

“There are four Brookes in our grade,” Caroline said. “Brooke Lane, Brooke Blevins, Brooke Stevens, and Brooke Hayes.”

“I dunno how you know that off the top of your head and frankly it's kinda creepy, but it’s Brooke Lane!” Eddie said with an unreasonable pride.

Silence filled the whole library. A few kids stared at him.

“U wot m8?!” Levi piped as he jumped over the back of the couch and landed next to Caroline. “Dude, she’s known as the Bitchy Brooke for a reason! There’s “Bitchy” Brooke Lane, “Boring” Brooke Blevins, “Funny” Brooke Stevens, and “Annoying” Brooke Hayes.”

“Hey, you weren’t there mang! You didn’t see her dominate that balance beam!”

“I’m gay so I wouldn’t be watching anyway.”

“Eh, fair.”

“Just don’t get in trouble this time,” Bruce sighed. “We don’t want a repeat of Kayleigh Bender do we?”

Everyone present shuddered.

“…Wait, why aren’t you surprised by the fact I…exist?” Chara asked.

“Oh, Caroline sent everyone a text,” Eddie explained.

“Just the basics,” Caroline said with a shrug. “You were gone, bureaucracy fucked shit way up, and now you’re back.”

“My dad works at Elecom,” Bruce said. “He knows about all that…bureau-whatever.”

“Bureaucracy.”

“Yeah, that.”

Meanwhile, Frisk sat by Chara.

«You never told me you were half-French…» they signed, almost sad.

Chara felt a pang of guilt strike them.

“It’s not like it’s important,” they grumbled after a moment.

«It’s still something about you! That makes it cool!»

“Well maybe I just don’t wanna talk about it!”

Silence.

«Which of your parents was French?» Frisk asked.

Chare hesitated.

“…My mother.”

Frisk smiled.

Chara didn’t.

They just sat there, lost in thought.

* * *

Brooke looked at the bulletin board.

She mentally made note of the dates on the paper she was looking at.

September 8th.

She let out a huff and walked to her locker.

Inside was exactly what she expected.

She didn’t have to _read_ it. A few choice words in frilly curlicues, lowercase i’s dotted with hearts, lowercase t’s looped to hell and back with the line so long it extends the whole word. Personalized red-and-gold-bordered stationery

_Die._

_Worthliss._

_Traiter._

…Yeah, Alicia can’t spell too good.

Brooke tore the paper in three and trashed it before walking on.

She didn’t care.

She told herself that three times until she actually believed it a little.

* * *

Papyrus didn’t mean to brag, but he was very good at keeping himself busy.

And when his amazing boyfriend Mettaton was away, he…found that a bit difficult to do.

But!

Even then he had his ways!

Which was why he was listening to some of Mettaton’s music while scrolling through his old tweets.

Four years, eleven months, sixteen days, eighteen hours, twenty minutes, and fifteen seconds worth of them, and since Mettaton left at 8:43 this morning he had gone through one year, four months, and five days worth of tweets.

So far, of the 3,587 tweets he’s read thus far, Papyrus had been tagged or otherwise mentioned in 1,897 of them.

And Mettaton was still putting out a tweet every ten minutes to an hour and a half. Fifteen of those new tweets mentioned Papyrus.

Papyrus commented on all of them.

As usual.

He felt a flurry of warmth when Mettaton replied to his comments.

It…quickly devolved into shameless flirting.

But really what other kind of flirting _was_ there? There’s nothing to be ashamed _of._ And besides, this was his boyfriend. He had full rights to shameless public flirting! Such was the right of _all_ romantic couples! Such as he and Mettaton are!

He sighed and decided to do some work around the manor.

Keep himself busy.

* * *

“so that’s the only thing left,” Sans mused. “the dress.”

“Indeed,” Toriel sighed. “I don’t want anything too opulent, but I don’t want something simple either. And none of the local bridal shops offer anything in cream lace - ‘too old-fashioned’ they called it.”

Sans sighed and shrugged, taking a bite of spring roll. “we could always have someone personally tailor you one.”

“We could, but it takes a very long time to make a dress Sans - I made my own wedding dress the first time, and it took me the better part of a _year!”_

“yeesh, better ‘n I could do…”

“Well, when Mettaton’s back in town I will ask him what we could do…”

“solid plan.”

Silence.

Then it hit Sans all at once.

“say, didn’t chara make that ‘mr. dad guy’ sweater of asgore’s?” he asked.

“They did,” Toriel replied. “Are you suggesting…?”

“have ‘em team up with mtt to make your dress,” Sans finished. “it’s a great way to get them involved in the wedding too. asriel could help asgore with the flowers and stuff.”

Toriel beamed brightly.

“Oh Sans, that is absolutely _brilliant!”_ she squealed, lifting him into her arms and kissing him.

Sans just accepted his smoochy, lovey, mushy fate.

Because this was what he lived for.

Chara entered the computer science classroom with Frisk and Asriel.

…If their memory wasn’t fooling them almost everyone in this class was in Book Club.

They and Asriel sat near the front on either side of Frisk.

They saw a Human boy with black hair and deep blue eyes sait down on the other side of them.

They saw the boy turn his head a perfect 90 degrees toward them.

That was freaky.

“Salutations!” he said. “I am Zeke!”

Chara closed in on themself somewhat.

“Greetings,” they said.

Zeke, seemingly not noticing Chara’s awkwardness, returned his gaze to the front.

Chara opted not to think about it.

Then Rachel entered the classroom, followed by three meek-looking girls and…Becky from across the street.

They all sat in the back, away from the Dreemurr siblings. And started chatting. Loudly.

Except Becky. She sat there in silence, a vacuous expression on her face that would make most sane people concerned and a little creeped out.

However, it seemed to go without saying that pubescent boys are not sane people.

Brooke walked in three minutes before the bell and blew her bangs out of her eyes as she sat in the third row of six at the computer nearest to the door from her.

She was _not_ having a good day. Attacks from Alicia and Rachel and their lackeys, some creepwad from Book Club hitting on her, and wore yet she forgot that the school lunch on Mondays was meatloaf with some mysterious brown substance attempting and disastrously failing to pass as gravy - really, she was _so_ ready to fully commit to cutting beef out of her diet. She’d pulled it off with pork.

She didn’t have it in her to even _snap_ at people anymore.

But she did have time to…think? Wow, Alicia would _kill_ her for that.

…Wait. She wasn’t in Alicia’s group anymore. Of _course_ she was dead meat.

She spotted a familiar face out of the corner of her eye.

The chestnut braid, the freckles.

Chloe. _Her_ Chloe, Chloe Phillips, Quiet Chloe. Not Creepy Chloe or Blonde Chloe.

Chloe spotted her.

Brooke averted her gaze. But kept observing.

A Raccoon Monster walked up behind Chloe and tapped her shoulder.

Before Brooke could warn Chloe, she’d turned around and…

Smiled. At the Monster. Said hello. Chatted and walked to a seat with…him? She was going with that.

Brooke was so relieved that Alicia didn’t have this class. She’d be livid seeing Chloe be chummy with a Monster.

…She had a bad feeling all of a sudden.

She opened a Word document and pressed the 3 key on the 10-key pad over and over until she felt better.

It helped a little.

Then _everyone_ turned to face the door.

Theo DeMartino.

He seemed to be ignoring…everyone, almost.

Frisk waved him over enthusiastically.

He hesitated briefly.

Then sighed and sat behind them.

Brooke…couldn’t believe it. This guy was friends with Matt Gorman - well, until last November. He’d still managed to get closer than anybody, bar Courtney Day. He was one of Book Club’s mortal enemies - what was going on here? Pity? Gullibleness? A clever plot to destroy him?

Brooke surreptitiously glanced behind her to see if Rachel was as incredulous as she was.

The look on her face and the whispers implied that yes, she did, and was expressing it as tweenage girls tend to express things of this nature.

Then Rachel saw her.

And blew a raspberry, causing her newest lackeys bar one to giggle. The one who wasn’t giggling just stared dumbly into space.

Brooke ignored that one and flipped off Rachel.

Rachel scoffed indignantly, ever the drama queen.

Then she saw someone and waved.

Brooke saw Miranda.

Miranda ignored Rachel and sat…somewhere nondescript.

Rachel then giggled and whispered to her lackeys.

Brooke’s attention was then drawn to the front as the teacher finally entered.

* * *

Randy typed away on the computer in his cubicle.

He loved his job - well, he loved the conditions and he loved the pay. And he got his own equipment. And he could work from home one week per pay period. He was aiming to see if it could accumulate like leave did. Nothing said in the contract or guidelines so he was experimenting.

But he _was_ in IT.

The one downside of working in IT was…

_BRRRRRING_

…that.

He sighed and answered, faking cheer through his eternally-angry face.

“Hi, this is Randy, your Elecom IT representative, how may I help you?”

_“Uh, hi, my name’s Bob Schmidt, I’m in HR, and I seem to be having some issues connecting to the wifi. And yes I did try turning my computer off and on again.”_

Randy screamed internally and sighed externally.

“Still, I am gonna have to ask that you reboot anyway,” he managed in his most customer service-y voice.

A moment or so passed. Randy connected to see what the deal was.

_“Nothing.”_

“Okay then. I’m checking your department’s router and everything’s good. Is your comp hooked up?”

_“Yeah, I’m sure it is, but lemme check…”_

“Okay then.”

Another moment passed.

_“It’s hooked up, yeah. But I did notice that the switch for my outlet was turned off and I turned that on. I’ll check and see if that was it.”_

“I can see from here - and I can safely say that you are exactly the _third_ person to actually find and solve the problem on your own in my three years of working here.”

_“That sounds like a crummy distinction.”_

“It is.”

_“Okay. Thanks Randy. Bye.”_

“Bye.”

And he hung up.

Randy sighed. That was the easiest request he’d gotten in _months._

It felt gooood.

Until…

_BRRRRRING_

Randy fought the urge to scream.

He picked up and went through the motions

Why he was in customer service he would never know.

It was enough to render him nuts.

* * *

Last class of the day.

Penelope started to change into gym clothes.

She didn’t notice the other girls staring at her enviously as she adjusted her bra - the biggest bust in the entire grade.

Alicia did.

She just glared at Penelope hoping she would burst into flames on the spot.

Penelope sat down to readjust her knee brace.

Some kids gasped at the scarring.

Alicia recoiled in disgust.

And got even angrier when a few kids went to ask her about it.

“Does it hurt?”

“How bad was it?”

“Can I touch it?”

Penelope seemed a bit taken aback, but she responded to the questions politely (“If I use it too much”, “I nearly got it amputated but I’m okay now”, and “Please don’t”).

Alicia changed into her gym clothes and stormed out of the locker room.

She entered the gym and sat next to Scott Foley on the bleachers.

She’d fooled around with him, managed to fool him into giving her one of his Dad’s credit card numbers. It wasn’t his main one but it was good enough for now. She’d work her way in.

But she could not _wait_ to dump him. He was good practice, but he was so… _classless._ Crude.

But he was just a stepping stone to bigger men, bigger wallets.

She managed a glare at Brooke as she walked in and sat on the far end of the bleachers.

And stifled a laugh as that Hispanic Book Club kid tried to come on to her.

Say what you will about Brooke, she has standards and she abides by them. Even Alicia couldn’t deny this.

Which just made the fact that Brooke had ignored her all summer long even more confusing. She’d never done anything to her! She’d done nothing but help her! Brooke Lane was _nothing_ without Alicia! _Nothing!_

And she was going to prove it.

Two big plots for this year. Ruin those Dreemurr freaks, and ruin Brooke Lane.

Easy peasy.

* * *

“And again! Left broken diagonal, right broken diagonal, broken T, T, low touchdown, toe touch, daggers, candlesticks, and pike!”

Alison and the other North Middle School cheerleaders did as Coach Tanya directed. They were practicing a routine for the coming tryouts. And had been for the last half hour.

“Okay, breaktime! Ten minutes and that’s it! After that we work on the chant!”

The cheerleaders broke and went to sit down on the bleachers outside the field.

Alison sat next to Hailey and Ariana and drank some Gatorade.

“Seriously, I cannot _believe_ you didn’t make captain!” Hailey said, redoing Alison’s ponytail for her. “Danielle’s great, she’s nice and stuff, and she’s got really good grades, but she’s not pretty like you are! Cute yeah, in an exotic kind of way, but not like, _pretty!”_

Ariana hummed in agreement.

“I think it’s just one of those weird diversity gimmicks,” Alison said. “I don’t see the point.”

“Yeah, so what if she’s Chinese?”

“She’s Korean, Hailey,” Ariana deadpanned.

“Well I don’t care _what_ part of China she’s from, _I_ should've been named captain instead of Danielle freaking Oh!” Alison snapped.

“Gee, I wonder why you weren’t.”

“I know! What next, is some Wizard freak gonna join?”

“Okay girls! Break time’s over! Back to work!”

“Come on, let’s show Danielle she’s not all that,” Alison said.

“Yeah!”

* * *

Donny skateboarded down the street by the local park, guitar case slung over his shoulder. Getting used to the area after school.

He stopped his board and got off, carrying it to a nearby bench.

He took out his guitar and started playing.

When he finished his song, he jumped on hearing applause.

He didn’t notice the crowd.

Power of music. Sucks you in.

Some of them were putting bills and change in the guitar case.

Donny nodded to himself and started playing another song, opting to sing this time.

“You would not believe your eyes~ If ten million fireflies~ Lit up the world as I fell asleep~”

A few laughed, a few left.

He actually got _more_ money with Owl City.

He could make a living like this. When his mom kicked him out for good he had a way of getting by on the streets.

All he really needed then was a place to plug in his Nin64.

* * *

Chara, Frisk, and Asriel gathered around the dinner table - baked chicken and fried rice tonight.

“so, i got news,” Sans announced.

“You have the rest of the week off?” Chara asked.

“i wish, but no.”

“Did you enter a pie-eating contest?” Asriel guessed.

“i wish, but no.”

«Are you pregnant?» Frisk signed. Chara bit back laughter.

“Frisk!” Toriel balked.

“yeah, no,” Sans said. “the news is, i got an email from a certain someone.”

“Oh?”

“yep. one ruby hammonds, asking to meet with frisk in october. cover stuff about wizards and monsters.”

Frisk gasped, ruby eyes wide and sparkling with excitement. They started bouncing in place and signing excitedly. Some of the signs were utter gibberish - it happened in their more excitable moments.

“Whoa, presidential candidate huh?” Chara remarked as they sipped their chocolate milk.

“and of course you two are comin’ as well. frisk wouldn’t have it any other way i’d bet.”

Frisk’s enthusiasm intensifies.

Chara chuckled. “I think that’s a yes.”

* * *

_Such a good first day of school has filled you with_

_D E T E R M I N A T I O N_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Day In The Life - The Beatles
> 
> Fireflies - Owl City


	9. Seven Nation Army

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s sports in here. Also Sans is Ms. Frizzle, Alicia gets rekt, Sienna gets an intern, Brooke gets sporty, and some concerns start being addressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeet

_8:45 A.M., September 8th, 20XS_

 

_It’s a dark morning outside._

_Rain is falling._

_Thunder is booming._

_On days like this, kids like you…_

 

_…are making your way through math._

* * *

Well, they’re trying.

Math. You bitch.

Alicia was clicking her shiny new marble and rose gold pen fast and hard.

Frisk could feel the sound jabbing the base of their skull.

They started chewing on their nails to calm down.

They felt a tap on their shoulder.

Chara was looking at them.

«Sound bugging you?» they signed

Frisk gave a tiny, guilty nod.

«The stars on your hoodie strings are chewable ones,» the older enby explained. «That way you won’t chew your nails too much.»

Frisk smiled and stopped chewing their nails.

They fought the urge to hug Chara then and there as they stuck the little rubber star into their mouth and started chewing.

Tastes like love and rubber.

Alicia’s clicking intensified to no avail.

* * *

Sienna entered the building, completely intangible, taking pictures of anything that could be important.

Which wasn’t much, really. But what was lacking in quantity was more than made up for in quality.

She was real glad she’d trained herself to turn objects she touched directly intangible along with her. Made her job even easier.

She was real glad she could do small time stuff during lulls in the big stuff. Kept her from getting bored.

She finished taking photos and left quickly.

She saved the images in a password-protected folder and emailed it to herself to print off later.

* * *

Caroline, Levi, and Tina were grouped together, having finished each long division of decimals.

“I don’t understand what people find so bothersome about this,” Caroline said.

“Right? I love math!” Levi added. “I wanna do stuff with geometry and angles so I can experiment with filming stuff!”

“I think we’re in here _because_ we like math,” Tina admitted.

“But you can be good and it and not like it, or like it and not be good at it,” Caroline pointed out.

“That’s true.”

Caroline took out her notebook and observed her surroundings.

Naomi was talking to some girls. A few guys were chatting amongst themselves. A few kids were off on their own doing their own thing.

Except one kid. He was on his own, but rather than screwing around on his phone or reading a book he was just…staring into space with an absentminded smile.

Caroline would admit she got moments where she got lost in thought, but this did not seem like one of those times for this kid.

It seemed like…he was on standby? Dialing up?

It was weird.

Caroline briefly wondered if this is what everyone in Silverton thought about her and her incessant reading.

That wondering was enough to lead her to a decision.

She stood up and walked over to the boy and cleared her throat to get his attention.

He turned to face her with the same expression.

“You wanna sit with our group?” she asked as if she didn’t notice.

The boy’s expression went from dull bliss to excitement. The rest of him managed to…stay the same. Somehow.

“Really?!” he asked, as excited as his expression was and the rest of him wasn’t.

“Yeah.”

“Thank you! Oh! And salutations! I am Zeke!”

“I’m Caroline. Come on. I’ll show you the others.”

Caroline watched as Zeke stood…almost mechanically.

Zeke followed her. Caroline could practically hear the robot sounds and feel the strong static in the air.

…Okay that second one requires further study.

She sat in her seat, Zeke sitting in the empty spot.

“Who dis?” Levi asked.

“Salutations! I am Zeke!”

“N-nice to meet you,” Kristina said. “I’m Kristina, but my friends call me Tina.”

“I’m Levi! I’m Caroline’s stepbrother!”

Zeke blinked. “Stepbrother?”

“Yeah! Her dad married my mom a few years ago!”

Zeke seemed to be lost in thought.

“Stepbrother, stepbrother, stepbrother…” Zeke repeated quietly to himself. “Oh! I know what that is!”

Levi seemed a touch put off. “I mean…I kinda just said…?”

“Stepbrother! Noun! A son of one’s stepparent by a marriage other than that with one’s own father or mother!”

Silence.

“Holy crap, someone else besides Caroline reads the dictionary for fun!”

* * *

“okay, today’s lab is cancelled.”

Cheers.

As Sans expected.

“instead we’re going to a lecture, and you will be expected to take notes in order to _get_ a lab grade.”

Disappointment.

Also as Sans expected.

“i’m also going with you all to get lunch. your choice, we’ll take a vote.”

Cheers.

“okay, now come on.”

Sans picked up a yardstick.

“one of you grab on. the rest of you, grab onto the one grabbing on.”

After doing so, Sans grinned.

“come on. i know a shortcut.”

And so he shortcutted, along with the yardstick and the 30+ undergrads.

They all mumbled in amazement and gazed at Sans in awe.

Sans paid their admiration no mind.

“follow me,” he said casually as he walked onward.

The students, amazed as all get-out, did so.

He led them into the university auditorium.

Quite a few research fellows were already there, chatting excitedly.

Among them was Dr. Gaster.

“just take a seat wherever, we’ll meet back in the lobby afterward,” Sans said. “if ya need me, i’ll be next to that skel over there.”

And with that Sans sat next to his father.

“Ah, Sans!” he said. “You made it!”

“yep. they’re taking notes on this for a lab grade and an off-campus lunch.”

“That’s my boy!”

Then a tallish Human man in a business suit stepped onto the stage with deliberate movements. He appeared to be near Randy’s age or a bit younger, with dark gray hair and deep blue eyes.

He adjusted his tie and cleared his throat.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and enbies,” he began, his voice bearing. “I thank you all for attending. My name is Dr. Wawrzyniec Grzegorzewski, but on immigrating to the United States I opted to change my name to the more easily pronounced Lorenzo Grimpunk.”

The audience began to whisper.

“Now, I am here today to speak to you all on the subject of a concept near and dear to my heart…artificial intelligence.”

Silence.

“I expected this reaction. After all, no machine to date has passed the Turing test. But the Turing Test is a scale of measuring how easy it would be for a machine to pass as Human. To express a specific range of Human behaviors. But that is the issue - there behaviors that could be considered Human, but to have them would not mean the Turing Test is passed. And then there’s the existence of Monsters - beings that appear inhuman, but display many Human traits. And yet Monsters were not subject to the Turing Test, why? Because they are sentient beings capable of communicating with Humans, and forming their own beliefs and opinions, and learning from the past. Using this, who’s to say that there isn’t an AI out there right now, going about the daily life of a Human?”

Murmurs of awe erupted.

Sans quirked a brow ridge.

Did this guy just imply that…?

“That is, however, merely a hypothetical scenario,” Dr. Grimpunk admitted. “But someday it shall be more than mere hypothesis, beyond theory, and made into law. Using Human technology, and applying Magical technology, or Magitech, to further advance its capabilities, I believe that Artificial Intelligence can be realized - even redefined.”

Chatter erupted.

“I am available for questions for half an hour. Thank you all once again for coming.”

And with that Dr. Grimpunk left the stage.

Sans looked at Gaster.

His eyelight was sparkling. He was vibrating in place, clicking his phalanges together.

Sans smiled fondly. Clearly someone was happy.

“wanna talk to ‘im?”

“Do I!”

“i dunno, do ya?”

“Yes!”

“go on ahead. i’ll give the students ten minutes to ask any questions they want. go crazy old man.”

“Sans, we both know I did that long ago!”

Sans chuckled and started texting Toriel.

He watched from the corner of his eye sockets as Gaster chatted quite animatedly with Dr. Grimpunk, even exchanging business cards.

After ten minutes, he gathered his students and went to a cafe.

Pick up some pastries to go for Toriel.

* * *

Brooke walked to her usual spot in History.

The chair was covered in shaving cream.

Alicia giggled, along with a few other girls.

Brooke switched the seat with the teacher’s while Alicia was distracted.

And rolled the teacher’s chair next to Alicia before rushing back to her spot.

A few more kids walked in.

Including that one Book Clubber who’d been bugging her the past week.

He sat next to her with a smirk and an eyebrow waggle.

“Hola,” he said in as deep a voice as he could manage - which wasn't that deep considering he was like thirteen, but he was further down that road than most of their grade.

Brooke glared at him from the corner of her eye before taking out her spiral notebook and writing her name and the date.

She saw the teacher come in and sit down on the shaving cream chair.

The screams that followed were almost as loud as Alicia’s claims that it wasn’t her fault “this time”.

The Book Clubber laughed like a lunatic, along with almost everyone else.

Brooke just doodled in the margin of her notebook.

Had to do something since work wasn't getting done.

If only the weirdo next to her would stop staring at her like she was a piece of meat.

* * *

A young man with shoulder-length brown hair and hazel green eyes sat in the waiting room, reading one of the three-month-old copies of Highlights magazine.

Goofus you shitty fuck, don’t do that. Oh my god.

Then he saw a woman enter. Her hair was shaved save for a single golden brown forelock that reached past her chest and was woven into a braid, and her eyes were sharp and deep green.

“You scheduled for noon?” she asked.

The young man nodded.

“Come on back then. Please follow me.”

He nodded and followed her silently.

They reached a room with a big wooden desk with a swivel chair, with two black armchairs before it.

The woman sat in the swivel chair and took out a folder.

“Your name?” the woman asked.

“Uh, Joel Hughes,” the young man said.

“Pronouns?”

Joel blinked in confusion.

“Are you a boy, girl, or are you nonbinary?”

“I-I’m a guy?” Joel said, stating it like a question in his confusion.

“Alright then sir. I’m Sienna Harper, and I’ll be interviewing you today.”

Joel just nodded blankly.

“Says here you’re 18 years old, born October 5th, salutatorian of Topeka High School class of 20XS?”

Nod.

“Mind telling me why you came to New England all the way from Kansas right out of high school?”

Joel looked over his left shoulder and sighed.

“I’m…not comfortable saying, Miss Harper.”

“Hm. I see. And what about you, sir? You know why he’s here?”

Joel gasped in shock.

He turned to look over his left shoulder again, then back at Sienna.

“…You see him too,” he said in disbelief.

“I do,” Sienna said casually. “So you were kicked out of your home and hopped on a Greyhound with the money saved in your allowance.”

Joel shrunk in on himself.

“Question is, why come to me?” Sienna asked.

“Because you had job openings posted online,” Joel said. “I came here ‘cause it’s as far as I could go on what I got saved up, and this was the only place nearby with room and board added to wages.”

Sienna looked at him.

“This guy tell you what that means?” she asked.

Joel flushed in embarrassment.

“The gentleman next to you just nodded. So due to your age and qualifications, you’ll be doing clerical and secretarial work to start off with. I’ll be directing you to your quarters, I’ll have your schedule by Wednesday.”

Joel blinked.

“Um. What.”

“Mr. Hughes, you got the job. You’re a grunt now.”

Joel was baffled.

“So,” Sienna began, “I take it you thought you were the only one who could see your passenger.”

“I mean…not everyone can see the dead,” the young man mumbled.

“Well, that right there is a skill that gets useful in my line of work,” Sienna said. “See, people who see and hear the Spirits of the dead like you and me are called Mediums.”

“Mediums…?”

“Yep. We can see and hear dead people. You clearly don’t have much practice with your abilities yet, so that’ll be something I teach you. We can cover it in your schedule, like I said.”

Joel just stared at Sienna.

Sienna buffed her nails.

He lowered his head and fought back tears.

Sienna silently gave him some tissues.

“Come on, I’ll show you to your room,” she said. “I live in an apartment complex a block away, so you’re on your own but still not far from me if you need anything.”

Joel just sobbed.

* * *

After school on the football field, the cheerleaders and the cheer coach - a woman in her mid forties with sandy blonde hair and brown eyes wearing a white t-shirt navy blue track pants - stood before the bleachers.

The girls trying out for cheer for the 20XS-XT school year sat in the bleachers. Most of them were talking to each other animatedly. A few others were off doing their own thing.

The coach blew her whistle.

“Okay! Roll call time ladies! Ready?!”

The cheerleaders cheered.

“Alison Braun!”

“Here!” Alison said as she stepped up with a smile.

“Hailey Brinker!”

“Here!” Hailey said as she did the same.

“Esme Cunningham-Chapman!”

“Here!” piped a girl with wavy dark brown hair and navy blue eyes.

“Giana Francisco!”

“Here!” chimed a girl with thick raven hair and brown eyes.

“Demi Holmquist!”

“Here!” said a freckled girl with honey blonde hair and green eyes.

“Danielle Oh!”

“Here~!” sang a girl with black hair and amber eyes.

“Talia Rosa!”

“Here!” says a girl with dark brown hair and hazel eyes.

“Ariana Solis!”

“Here,” Ariana snaps.

“Zara Wells!”

“Here!” shouted a girl with brown hair with pink and blue streaks and green eyes.

“And I’m Tanya King, the North Middle School cheer coach! But you can call me Coach Tanya!” said the coach. “Now, those of you trying out for cheer for the XS-XT school year, take the name tag with your name on it and line up in front of the bleachers facing me!”

Brooke and twenty other girls lined up. There were only seven spots on the team, and Brooke was determined to have one.

“Okay! Watch the squad closely and repeat after them!”

And Coach Tanya blew the whistle.

The squad followed Danielle’s lead. The moves were simple at first. Easy to follow.

Then they got slightly more difficult. Brooke smiled to herself - maybe she’d end up challenged for once.

On it went.

Difficulty increasing.

Brooke eases on through.

Then the whistle blows.

Time up.

And Brooke was only a little bit challenged.

Coach Tanya sent the girls on their way. Brooke grabbed her stuff.

She listened to the other girls for a bit.

“Why the heck is Bitchy Brooke here anyway?”

“I dunno, but she was _good.”_

“Yeah, but if she’s trying to get popular again after ditching Alicia and Rachel she’s doing it wrong.”

“Where did she learn how to do that backflip thing anyway?!”

Brooke blew her bangs out of her eyes. It’s called a back handspring dipshit.

Then again not everyone was in gymnastics, so they probably wouldn’t know what it was. So yeah, backflip was…not _totally_ wrong, but still wrong.

Backflips don’t involve hands on the ground for one thing.

“But did you see that boy hiding in the bleachers?”

“Yeah, that one seventh grader from the baseball team, went to Mountainside?”

“Yeah, he’s been creeping around Bitchy Brooke since school started.”

“Is he braindead?”

“Probably.”

Brooke grabbed her bags and made a point to walk by the gossipers fast enough to leave a breeze behind her. When they turned she glared at them before walking away before they could turn around.

When she got home her mother was working and her father had thrown out her incense before leaving. Again.

She checked beneath her bed.

She sighed in relief and took the little brown-speckled white rabbit from its hutch and held it close.

At least _someone_ was there for her.

* * *

At dinner that night, Chara seemed oddly excited.

It did not go unnoticed. Their smile was ever present, but their ruby eyes were sparkling and they were swinging their legs back and forth.

Sans and Toriel looked at each other with smiles.

“So what has my enby so happy this evening, hm?” Toriel asked.

“Oh, not much,” Chara said with a shrug. “I just got an idea…”

“And when are you gonna tell us what it is, huh?!” Asriel asked.

Frisk nodded through a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

“Okay, okay!” Chara snickered. “I decided to try out for the volleyball team!”

Silence.

“I got the physical form in my backpack to take to the doctor’s,” they said before taking a drink of chocolate milk.

Toriel smiles nervously and looks at Sans.

His smile was a touch stiff, but you wouldn't know it if you didn’t know him.

Chara stood up.

“Dinner was good as always Mom!” they said. “I gotta go do homework - didn’t finish math in class so I had to take it home.”

“okay, lemme know if ya need help,” Sans said.

“Thanks Dunkle!” Chara said as they ran off, somewhat favoring their left leg as they did.

Toriel sighed.

She didn’t want to be the one to tell them their bum leg was probably going to bar them from volleyball…

* * *

  _The sports and stuff have you filled with_

_D E T E R M I N A T I O N_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seven Nation Army - The White Stripes


	10. One More Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New stuff, old stuff, all kindsa stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> end me

_ 11:43 A.M., September 11, 20XS _

 

_ It’s a nice enough day outside. _

_ The weather is cooling off. _

_ The sun is shining through some clouds. _

_ On days like this, kids like you… _

 

_ …are at lunch. _

* * *

Frisk took a bite of butterscotch pudding.

Tastes like cinnamon-less crustless gloopier butts pie.

Chara took a bite of their chocolate pudding. They still marvelled how  _ different _ it was to be tasting food with their own tongue, chewing it with their own mouth.

That was not something people would get.

But that didn’t matter.

Chocolate pudding -  _ that’s _ what mattered.

And  _ nobody _ was getting Chara Waking Dreemurr’s chocolate  _ anything. _

Some things people just weren’t meant to get.

* * *

Brooke summoned all her inner strength, rhythmically tapping her backpack strap with her fingers as she walked - one two three, one two three, one two three.

She stood before the bulletin board. A few people stared.

She saw her name.

She’d made the squad.

She fought back the urge to scream with delight.

She walked away from the board with a spring in her step.

Then she stopped before turning the corner into the hallway.

…She heard a familiar voice.

She hid behind the corner and peered out past it.

It was Alicia. Talking with…three cheerleaders. From the looks of it, it was Danielle, Demi, and Allison.

“Look, I’ll have my daddy wire the money to you! Just do what I say  _ or else!” _ Alicia snipped.

“And  _ I _ said  _ we’ll see,” _ Danielle said calmly.

Alicia growled, then turned expertly on her heel and stomped away. Well, click-clacked away. Heels.

Danielle sighed.

“We’re not doing it,” she said calmly.

“Are you insane?!” Allison snapped. “She’s a  _ Berry! _ Everyone knows they have mob connections! You know what her dad did to -”

“Allison, if you think I’m going to compromise my  **Integrity** out of fear, you’re wrong,” Danielle said. “Come on you two. Demi, you go the long way and meet us in a bit. We’ll try to distract  _ you-know-who.” _

Demi sighed with relief and gave Danielle a quick hug.

Brooke lack any context, but damn if she wasn’t suspicious. This was Alicia after all.

Then she did a double-take.

Caroline Marlow was leaning on the opposite corner from her, taking notes. She’d fallen even further down the goth rabbit hole over the summer.

Caroline looked over at Brooke.

She gave a simple nod and walked away.

Brooke was now terrified  _ and _ suspicious.

But knowing the Marlow girl she got more than Brooke had…

Brooke was horribly conflicted.

She went to her locker.

More love letters from that Suarez creep.

She took them out and tore them up and trashed them.

It was getting ridiculous.

* * *

Donovan took his guitar out and sat down on - not at, on - an empty lunch table.

He started to play.

A few kids looked up at him.

He started to sing.

“Feeling like a hero, but I can't fly~ No, you never crash if you don't try~ Took it to the edge, now I know why - never gonna live if you're too scared to die~”

A few more kids were listening intently now.

Actually, a lot more. It was a reasonable crowd gathered around him. A few were even filming.

He saw a few either glare at him or try to ignore him. These kids seemed kinda snooty.

Donovan smirked as he side-eyed these kids and rocked out.

All but one returned to what they were doing. The one that remained just glared harder, sneering with disgust.

The crowd cheered when Donovan finished his song.

And then the bell rang.

* * *

Susan took the quinoa salad out of the fridge and put it in the cooler. Sure she had two hours until the PTA meeting, but it was best to be prepared ahead of time.

Especially if her hunch was right and those Monsters next door were going to be there.

She’d  _ told _ Bob to take the job offer in Burbank, but  _ no. _ But his reasoning was sound - Ebott was in fact safer, and the school system was very nice as well. But Upland and Stonewall were  _ much _ nicer neighborhoods while still being in budget - but noooo, Mountainside’s closer to his work!

Susan growled at the memory of that argument. She went to her corner curio cabinet, got some glass cleaner and a rag, and started to clean the glass.

She reminded herself to clean her figurines too…

Wait.

Susan did a double take.

She gasped in horror.

On spot T in row four of eight on shelf five of six. The resting place of the Gold-Horned White Unicorn With Pastel Pink Rose Garlands.

The figurine’s head had broken off. It was such a clean cut, it would be easy to assume it impossible. But as it was, the head was sitting neatly at the figurine’s base. Like it had been sawn off.

Susan nearly shouted Donovan’s name in rage.

Then she realized.

The figurine was intact last time Susan had checked it - two hours  _ after _ Becky and her brother had left for school.

Susan’s rage was now replaced with terror.

She texted Bob and told him to buy a security system for the house on his way home.

She finished cleaning the glass and took out the ruined unicorn figurine.

Luckily she knew how to fix this sort of thing…

* * *

Caroline turned in her French worksheet and sat down.

She felt static. Static, static everywhere and not a spark to see.

Caroline mentally smiled at her little quip and took out her notebook to write it down.

Then she felt…what could only be described as dead air. Like the Front Range where the rest of the place was the Rockies.

It was just not right.

Caroline briefly wondered what would happen if she focussed on it.

So she did.

She suddenly felt…hollow. Empty. More so than usual. And it was more…default.

And it was coming from…uh…

Caroline slammed her face with her notebook and shook her head. Remove the emptiness.

There.

She inhaled and recalled where the empty static came from.

She turned toward Rebekah Schmidt.

The girl’s vacuous expression wasn’t too different from Zeke’s. But at the same time it was the total opposite of his as well.

Where Zeke’s default vacuous expression conveyed blissful innocence bordering almost on naïvete that came off as almost infectious, Rebekah’s seemed to be more…chronic. Oppressive even. The little blonde girl had entered the Uncanny Valley and built herself a cute little house - if her outfit was any indication said house was as pink as Barbie’s Dreamhouse if it had a bad case of pinkeye.

Caroline wondered if reaching out to this girl was worth it in any way.

The disturbingly empty way she was staring at her finished worksheet suggested that the answer, for the moment at least, was a resounding no.

Caroline sighed and opted to return to her writing.

“Hey, um, Caroline, can uh, you help me with question seven?”

Caroline looked up at the person asking and sighed wearily.

“Page 22 in the textbook, under the second heading. I’ll show you this once, but not again.”

* * *

Nash entered the small building and stared at the kid behind the desk.

Well, not a kid, but a teenager of some kind.

The teen stared back, a bit of a flustered blush on his face.

“Uh, m-may I help you Officer?” he asked.

“Yeah, is a Sienna Harper here?” Nash asked.

“She’s out on a job,” the teen said. “She just called a bit ago, so she should be back anytime now.”

And as if on cue, Sienna faded in. Nash flinched.

“Ah, Officer Nash, right on time,” she said casually. “I see you’ve met my new employee.”

“Employee?” Nash repeated.

“Yep. Officer Nash, meet Joel Hughes. He’s a recent high school graduate, and he’s doing clerical work for me in exchange for room and board and all that good stuff. Joel, Officer Wayne Nash, Mountainside PD.”

“H-hello,” Joel stuttered. His face was red as could be.

Nash nodded.

“Yeah, employee or not, the kid isn’t gonna be allowed to listen in,” he said.

“Understood,” Sienna said. “Joel, could you wait out here for me? You can turn on the TV if you wanna watch something.”

“Uh, okay,” Joel managed.

Sienna nodded and patted the young man’s head as she passed him, Nash following behind.

Joel simply stood in place, staring after Nash as he walked out of sight.

“He’s like twice your age, kid.”

Joel turned to narrow his eyes at the man behind him.

The man had very thick wavy nut brown hair and a pencil mustache, with hazel eyes that bore a mischievous twinkle behind them. He wore a white poet shirt, with brown pants rolled up to just below his knees and bare feet. He wore a leather belt about his waist, with an empty scabbard at his right hip.

“Really, Uncle?” Joel deadpanned.

“Kid, I know you’ve always had a weakness for a man in uniform, we  _ both _ do, but you’ve got to go after your own age group,” chided the man called Uncle.

“Uncle, I’m 18,” Joel snapped. “And besides, we’re not in Kansas anymore. I’m free to love who I want - I’m free to love at all. And I  _ know _ it has to be someone my age. Just because I’ve been single my whole life so far doesn’t mean I’m desperate for a sugar daddy.”

Uncle chuckled.

“I know kid. You’re a good egg - have been since I metcha.”

Joel smiled.

“That also explains why you’re so  _ chicken!” _

“Uncle!”

Uncle laughed and rumpled Joel’s hair before disappearing.

Joel sighed and rolled his eyes, a smile on his face.

Meanwhile, Nash and Sienna were inside her office.

“You  _ do _ realize that at some point all these anonymous tips are gonna be traced back to you, right?” Nash asked warily.

“And  _ you _ realize that I only tip off stuff that can be conclusively proven,  _ right?” _ Sienna countered, almost playfully.

Nash sighed. “You reeeeally like playing with fire, don't you.”

“I have to. Puts bread on the table. Keeps me alive.”

Nash blinked. The way she’d said that was…he couldn’t describe it. It left an…impression, somehow. No other way to say it.

“Doesn’t have to be like that…” Nash grumbled.

“Says the blueshirt,” Sienna snipped.

“Hey, whoa, no. Don’t diss the uniform.”

“Then don’t diss the lifestyle. I go where you fear to tread - or where Mr. Chief won’t let you.”

“You talk like I’m not wired.”

“You aren’t. I did some digging. Our co-op is off the books, Blue.”

“Stop insulting me!”

“I’m not. It’s a nickname. Least I ain’t callin’ you blueshirt. Or worse…”

“Fuckin’ might as well be…”

“You want to keep me on, or we gonna keep this up until we call it quits?”

Silence.

“Good. Now go for it, Blue.”

“I said don’t call me that!”

Sienna just laughed.

Nash sighed. Least she didn’t call him a pig.

* * *

Chara typed away at their computer. Clickety click.

They could see Frisk at their left gnawing on their chewable stars. The keyboard sounds must be unbearable to them. 

The Zeke kid on their right was…slow. He used his index fingers to type. One letter every other second almost. His movements were kind of stiff, like he had to think about them for a bit before each individual one.

Them he stopped.

He turned his head toward Chara at a perfect 90° angle. Blithe smile plastered on his face. Or maybe sculpted. Or molded.

It was…a little creepy.

“Uhhh…greetings?” they said uncomfortably.

“Salutations, Chara!” Zeke said, blissfully unaware of their discomfort. “How are you feeling today?”

“O…kay?” Chara replied, really wanting to leave the conversation as soon as possible.

“That is good!” Zeke said, returning to his slow, slow typing.

Chara returned to their own typing, unnerved.

But the giggles from Rachel’s little crew were distracting as hell.

Chara turned around and stared at them until Rachel noticed.

Rachel stuck her tongue out.

Chara made a Creepy Face.

Rachel screamed and fell out of her chair. Chara took the opportunity to get their face back to normal while everyone was distracted by laughing at the fallen princess.

Rachel growled at Chara - but only managed to sound like a chihuahua.

Chara smiled innocently. 

Rachel just left the classroom in a huff against the teacher’s protestations. Probably to fix her hair and makeup or re-stuff her bra if the rumors about that were true.

Chara returned to their typing.

But they saw Zeke out of the corner of their eye he was looking from the door back to his screen with an expression that could almost be called worried.

Almost. The only clear difference was that he wasn’t smiling.

“I hope she is alright,” he said.

Chara blinked.

What was with this Zeke kid?

They sighed and shrugged.

“She’ll be fine,” Chara said.

Zeke smiled at Chara. “Perhaps you are right! Thank you Chara! You are very considerate!”

Chara got a weird feeling in their general existence. They didn’t like it.

“Yeah, considerate,” they muttered, returning to their work.

Typity type.

* * *

Five minutes to the PTA meeting.

Everyone was sitting down. A few new parents were present.

Sans could tell Linda and Amber were pissed as could be.

And the new neighbor lady was present and spray tanned to hell and back.

Sans and Toriel had chosen to stop by and say hello with some pie as a gift to show no hard feelings. Despite her apparent pleasance, everything about her was tense, like she couldn’t wait for the Gaster-Dreemurr family to leave. Probably so she could bathe in some bronzer.

Sharona was next to Sans with her face mask on to keep out allergens. Among which bullshit was included.

The neighbor lady looked at Sharona funny. Sharona winked sassily. Neighbor lady looked offended and turned away in a huff.

Sans fistbumped Sharona.

Then entered a familiar woman - the one who was PTA secretarylast year. Janice Gilmore, if Sans remembered.

…The way Linda and Amber glared at her told him he was right. And then some.

“Good afternoon everyone,” Janice said calmly. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Janice Gilmore, I’m the President of the North Middle School PTA for the 20XS-20XT school year. My son Elliot is in the eighth grade this year. Why don’t we all introduce ourselves before we begin? Let’s start with PTA officers and work our way around the room.”

And Linda’s and Amber’s rage faces were a sight to behold. Sans committed them to memory. But a question appeared - would he have to? He doubted it.

Karen sighed and stood up. Sans was surprised that she wasn’t angry. What was with that, was it just Jill or something? But really, no anger in Karen. Just tiredness.

“Hi, I’m Karen Day, PTA Vice President. My younger daughter Courtney is in eighth grade, and my older daughter Megan is a high school junior.”

A few parents wound up whispering. Seems none of them knew Karen had another daughter. But then again, from what he’d heard about how… _ high-maintenance _ Courtney is…

But Sans smiled internally as Sharona stood up, removing her face mask to smile at everyone.

“Hey, name’s Sharona Marlow-Goldsby! I’m PTA secretary, and I have a son named Levi and stepdaughter named Caroline, both in seventh grade!”

Linda’s eyes were nearly bugging out of her head she was so enraged. Amber just seemed shocked. Plenty of parents who were on the Mountainside PTA applauded her, which just pissed off Linda even  _ more. _

Man, if Sans was allowed to take photos right now he would. This was great.

And since he was next to Sharona, it only served to reason that he should introduce himself next.

“hey, how’s it goin’,” he greeted with his usual easygoingness. “the name’s sans. sans gaster. got three kids, boy named Asriel and two enbies named Frisk and Chara, all in seventh grade.”

Applause.

Few more parents went. Then it was time for the neighbor lady to introduce herself.

She stood up with a grin practically stapled to her face.

“Hello there!” she greeted with hollow enthusiasm. “My name’s Susan Schmidt! My family just moved here from Iowa! I have a daughter in seventh grade named Rebekah, and a son in eighth grade!”

Polite clapping ensued. No doubt people noticed that she didn’t give her son’s name.

A few more parents went.

Then it was Linda’s time to…well, shine was the wrong word.

“Hellooo everyone!” she sang - Sans hoped to the stars above and Shrek in his swamp that wasn’t her real singing voice, because even this was offkey as shit. “I’m Linda Thompson, I was PTA President of Mountainside Elementary from 201Y to 20XR! I have a son Hunter in seventh grade and a daughter Hannah in third grade!”

And she sat down with a smug smile.

Amber stood up next - she and Linda hated each other’s guts, but still hung around each other. Maybe for the same reason Carlson hung around him. Maybe. Who knew what connected them and how.

Sans would find out if he ever needed to.

“Hiiii, I’m Amber Foley, I was PTA President at Upland Elementary from 201X to 20XR! My son Scott is in seventh grade!”

And with that she sat down and turned to Linda with a smile that said “top that, bitch”.

A few more parents went.

Last was a well-built Human man in his mid-forties with brown hair and a beard with muted green eyes. He was wearing a business suit, so clearly he’d just come in from work.

He said nothing at first.

Someone cleared their throat.

“George,” the man said.

Some parents gasped. A few women audibly swooned - not every day you meet a man with a British accent.

People waited for George to continue. He clearly wanted to be anywhere but here.

He sighed wearily.

“George Cantrell. Son Sean, seventh grade. Daughter Samantha. High schooler.”

And he sat down.

…Cantrell? Wait, does that mean this guy…

“Okay, first on the agenda - this Tuesday will be the fifth anniversary of Monsters being freed from the Underground,” Janice began. “At last year’s May PTA meeting, we discussed allocating leftover funds toward a schoolwide event that same day, and after surveying the students on the first day of school we know what we’re going to do!”

A few parents started chattering excitedly.

“Hold on just one second!” Linda stated, causing practically everyone to groan, as they knew exactly what she was going to say. “I don’t remember that ever being brought up at  _ any _ PTA meeting!”

“Linda, you weren’t even  _ at _ the one last May,” Karen noted. “In fact, I don’t even remember seeing you at all that entire month.”

“Still! I refuse to let my son be forced to participate in this…this thing!”

“I actually agree with Linda,” Amber said. “You’re forcing your views down these children's’ throats, and I refuse to allow that!”

“Weren’t you advocating for a morning prayer along with the Pledge of Allegiance?” Sharona asked.

“Wh - no! That wasn’t me, that was Sandi Shepherd!”

“You did strongly agree with it though,” Karen pointed out.

“ORDER!” Janice shouted, slamming a fist on the table. “We decided this  _ months _ ago, preparations are already under way. If you want your kids to stay home, just call ahead so the absence doesn’t get counted against them. Am I clear?”

Silence.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Janice said. “Now, next is the school musical -”

Linda let out a muffled scream.

“- and the students have chosen to do Wicked!”

A few parents oohed.

Linda looked like she was about to explode.

“The auditions are during lunch all the rest of this month! If anyone wants to help out, there are brochures by the sign-in sheet!”

Sans stared at Linda.

She was so red she was close to purple.

The neighbor lady - apparently named Susan, but he was probably going to mess it up on purpose anyway - just did her mascara in a compact mirror while Janice talked about fundraising ideas.

Sans decided to catch a few Z’s.

* * *

“Okay, can you move your right ankle for me Chara?”

Chara did so. Despite appearances, their right leg was still healthy. It was merely bent inward just above the ankle. They could move it pretty well, they thought.

So why was the doctor so adamant about focusing on that leg in particular?

“Does it hurt at all?” the doctor asked.

“No,” Chara said, starting to get testy.

The doctor made some notes.

“Well, Mrs. Dreemurr, we’ll schedule Chara’s X-rays for tomorrow morning. The results will be in by Monday.”

“But I’ll be able to try out for volleyball, right Dr. Michaels?” Chara asked.

“We will know for certain by Monday, Chara,” Toriel reassured. “Fret not, my child.”

Chara huffed and pouted.

Dr. Michaels smiled apologetically.

“You will,” she said. “If not this year, next year for certain.”

After the mother and enby left the doctor’s office and entered the vehicle to head home, Chara spoke up.

“Is my leg really that big a deal?” they asked.

“…Considering how it came about, I should say so,” Toriel admitted.

“Mom, I’ve dealt with this leg long enough to be used to it.”

“And perhaps that is not a good thing to be used to!”

Chara’s eyes widened. Toriel rarely shouted like that.

Toriel sighed, fighting back a few tears.

“I am sorry for shouting Chara,” she said, voice tense. “But if something is wrong or will be wrong if left unchecked…”

“Mom, I want to talk about literally anything else right now,” Chara said coldly. “Please.”

Toriel looked at Chara. They were gazing out the window at nothing, their default smiley expression present as ever.

They really  _ didn’t _ want to talk about it yet.

But they would have to eventually.

Until then, they’d take everything one day at a time.

* * *

The sounds of rolling stones being dragged on a damp cave floor sounded through Waterfall.

Then the sound of something heavy being dragged through shallow water could be heard.

The sound continued until it reached a mound of trash.

Diaspro Nil lifted some of the trash against the westward-facing cave wall and set it aside.

His calculations estimate approximately two months, three weeks, and four to six days of digging through refuse would clear it all away.

But for now, as he lifted a discarded sock full of holes, he was glad to be incapable of perceiving scent.

* * *

The work of a chief business officer is never done. That goes double for one Svea Holgersson. As the CBO of Prominence Financial Group, she couldn’t afford to take time off for anything. Even breaks were limited to fifteen minutes a day  _ at most. _ Today was no different. She  _ had _ to close this deal by Sunday.

Svea sent an email to the client reminding them of this, along with a list of various benefit packages as well as asking after their family. It helps to be personable, even if it’s shallow. Sometimes especially is it’s shallow.

Her phone rang. Interoffice number - familiar one too. She answered the same as she did every other phone call, no matter who it was from.

“Prominence Financial Group, You’ve reached Svea Holgersson, how may I assist you?” she greeted.

_ “Your six o’clock is here Ms. Holgersson,” _ the woman on the other end of the line said.

“Send him in Eleanor,” Svea said, finishing the email with one hand and writing the appointment in her agenda while holding her phone between her neck and shoulder.

_ “Very well ma’am.” _

“Thank you.”

And with that Svea hung up the phone and took a sip of her coffee.

She checked her agenda for October.

Charity gala costume ball on the 31st of the month, proceeds going to Ebott Children’s Hospital.

Hm. Plenty of networking opportunities. Doubtless the girl would be a big help.

She decided to work until midnight for the next week and a half to ensure entry for her an the girl - and her layabout husband, since many investors are quite conservative.

When the door opened and her 6 o’clock entered, she instinctively pasted on her businesswoman smile. Performed her businesswoman greetings.

Work is never over. And that was just how Svea liked it.

* * *

“You say you’ve made some friends?”

“Yes, Papa! They greet me in class every day!”

“That’s very good!”

“Thank you Papa! I have met so many people! It is very amazing, being able to be a part of this world!”

“Indeed, my son.”

“But, Papa…one of my friends seems to be rather shy…”

A sigh.

“I’m sure they will open up with time. True friendship takes time, son. Not just saying hello and deciding to be friends. It takes time and dedication. And you have both in spades.”

Silence.

“I am not sure what landscaping tools or playing card suits have to do with time or dedication in regards to myself, but thank you Papa.”

“You’re welcome. Good night son.”

“Good night Papa! I love you!”

A smile.

“I love you too, Zeke.”

* * *

_ “Quand nous en serons~ Au temps des cerises~ Et gai rossignol~ Et merle moqueur~ Seront tous en fête~” _

The two children looked at their mother with shining eyes full of love. She couldn’t sing to them often - their father didn’t like to hear songs that weren’t hymns. He didn’t like to hear his wife and children. Women and children should be seen and not heard.

But when Father was away, Mother and Children were free to play.

Mother was very pretty, with hair like sweet wine and eyes like emeralds, a flush about her cheeks when Father was away.

As the children drifted off to sleep, Mother smiled warmly. She always smiled in Father’s absence.

A crash was heard.

Mother gasped silently, smile fleeing from her face. The love in her children’s eyes was replaced with fear.

She looked at her children sadly and kissed their foreheads.

_ “Bonne nuit, mes bijoux,” _ she whispered.

She silently left the bedroom, long day dress trailing behind her.

There and gone, like a shade in the night.

Like the blossoms of spring.

The children closed their eyes in fear and huddled close.

And then Chara awoke.

Tears in their eyes. Chest and throat and tongue heavy and tight.

They checked on their siblings.

Both asleep.

Isolde the cat was at Chara’s feet, silently miffed about having been woken up.

Chara petted her apologetically and quietly descended the ladder, taking their quilt and wrapping it around them.

They crept quietly as they could to the master bedroom.

They knocked quietly on the door and opened it just a crack.

Sans moaned a little and lifted himself onto his elbows, his eyelights the only light in the room.

“wh’zzup?” he managed.

Chara entered the room silently, anxiously.

They tried to speak but invariably failed.

«I had a nightmare,» they signed. «But it also kind of wasn’t.»

Toriel sat up at this point.

“chara had a sorta-kinda-not-really nightmare,” Sans explained.

Toriel was confused.

“what was it about?” Sans asked.

Silence.

«My Human mother…» Chara signed after a while. «Constance…»

Toriel covered her mouth.

Sans used his Blue Magic to lift Chara onto the bed between himself and Toriel.

“anything specific…?”

«She…she loved Will and me,» Chara sighed, hesitating a little. «When Hiram wasn’t around…»

Sans had no clue what to say. Toriel silently took hold of her child.

Sans decided to take a cue from that action.

He stroked Chara’s hair and sang.

“When you're down and out~ When you're on the street~ When evening falls so hard   
I will comfort you~”

Chara found themself relaxing.

They weren’t sure when they drifted off to sleep, but sleep they did.

* * *

_ New discoveries fill you with _

_ D E T E R M I N A T I O N _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One More Time - Daft Punk  
> So Alive - Goo Goo Dolls  
> Le Temps des Cerises - Yves Montand  
> Bridge Over Troubled Water - Simon & Garfunkel


	11. The Zoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The title says quite a lot, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeeto

_11:21 A.M., September 12, 20XS_

 

_It’s a crisp pre-autumn day outside._

_A breeze is blowing._

_Leaves are slowly turning._

_On days like this, kids like you…_

 

_…are about to have a fun day out!_

* * *

Sans shortcutted outside of the doctor’s office with Asriel and Frisk.

“Is Chara okay Dunkle Sans?” Asriel asked anxiously.

“they’re just getting some x-rays done,” Sans said, rumpling Asriel’s fur. “for that volleyball thing. gotta make sure everything’s in working order, see.”

“Oh, okay.”

Asriel seemed slightly relieved. But only slightly.

Frisk seemed **DETERMINED.**

FILE: SAVE

Chara and Toriel left the doctor’s offfice.

“you two ready to go?” Sans asked.

Toriel smiled. “But of course!”

“Heck yeah!” Chara concurred with an excited grin.

“okay then, to the car.”

“And then the _zoo!”_ Chara squealed giddily.

Frisk hopped in place excitedly, signing so fast none could decipher their words.

But who needs words when you have happiness?

* * *

One of the best things about being a middle child, Eddie believed, was the freedom. Firstborns were busy, babies were just that. He was happy to be in the middle.

He could escape the insanity (when he wasn’t the one actively causing it) to do stuff like this.

He entered the gymnastics center and browsed the trophy case. Brooke was in all of the pictures in on the right. Smiling.

Maybe she’d smile at him like that one day.

Eddie smiled as he walked the hall.

Them he saw her. Exactly who he’d hoped to see.

“Brooke! Hola!”

Brooke turned to face him.

Her eyes widened. She seemed…scared. Uncomfortable? Irritated?

Nah. Couldn’t be.

But the speed with which she escaped him was commendable. Eddie chuckled and left the building.

She’d do great on the baseball team if they let girls in. Too bad they didn’t.

Everyone looks great in baseball pants. Just not the baggy old-timey ones. They did have great mustaches though.

Eddie then vowed to grow himself a mustache by the time he graduated middle school.

He wondered if Brooke would like that.

* * *

Caroline was reclining on her book sofa, a pillow beneath her head on one arm and her legs draped over the other.

She’d found that using bungee cords to hold the books in place worked pretty well. She wouldn’t dare use glue, and tape would have been a last resort. After all, she may one day want to read one of the books again.

But that aside.

She reclined on the book throne and took her notebook out.

For a moment she gazed at the cover.

It was made of brown leather, embossed with the image of violet flowers inside a rectangle with lace-like edges. All in all a very pretty thing, if one liked vintage aesthetics.

The inside cover had Caroline’s name on it, handwritten in black ink.

The handwriting always hurt to look at, despite its grace.

Perhaps that was because of who it belonged to.

But today as Caroline gazed on it, it hurt less than usual.

But why?

She decided to pursue that line of questioning at a later date.

She opened the notebook to a page that had been written on and took out some stationary and began to write invitations.

She could not believe she was doing this. But she’d not only already started, but already completed and sent some of them out.

Caroline would **Persevere** with the invitations.

Knowing she wasn’t alone helped about as much as she’d expected.

Which is to say not very much at all.

* * *

Hunter stared at herself in the bathroom mirror.

What had she done.

She taken Linda’s mascara and dared to actually try it on.

It wasn’t enough that she’d notice it had been used. But it was just enough that the well-trained eye would know Hunter was wearing some.

She really hoped Linda wasn’t smart enough to notice.

She gripped the edge if the bathroom counter and doubled over a little, suddenly unable to breathe.

She thought she was going to throw up.

What the hell was she doing? She stole makeup from her mother and used it - what was she? This was shameful.

Then she felt a hand on her shoulder.

She flinched, throwing herself away from the touch. She stumbled into the towel rack, nearly crashing into it. She instead painfully slammed her elbow on the edge of the bathtub.

She yelped in pain.

She was afraid to look up at the toucher. But then again, Linda would have made it obvious.

She inhaled for a boost of resolve - not that she should breathe much at all at the moment - and opened an eye.

Box braids, blue eyes, and a warm smile.

Estelle leaned down and hugged Hunter.

“Mascara huh?” she asked quietly.

Hunter only nodded.

“That’s a real good start. Subtle.”

Hunter managed a tiny smile.

“Don’t let her words get to you. Fight them off. You’re your own person, and one day you’re gonna prove it to her and the rest of the world. Okay love?”

Hunter nodded. A few tears slipped out.

Estelle let go and looked into her eyes, icy blue on baby blue.

“Huh. Waterproof. Who’da guessed she’d have that.”

“Maybe she doesn’t know…” Hunter managed, her voice a hoarse whisper.

Estelle laughed at that and hugged Hunter.

“Go text ‘em. I’ll be right behind you, okay love?”

Hunter smiled and nodded.

Once Estelle was gone Hunter closed her eyes, took some deep beaths until she was able to breathe, and stood up.

She got her phone and sent a text.

_Hunter.txt: r we still on 4 lunch?_

_Mettaton.txt: ✨✨Of course darling!✨✨_

Hunter smiled.

This was wrong. If Linda were to find out she’d snap.

But the light, fizzy feeling in her gut was enough to spur her onward.

 

* * *

Of the three Dreemurr siblings, Chara was clearly the most excited to be at the zoo today. They weren’t even trying to contain their enthusiasm - even if they were they wouldn’t be able to keep from smiling brightly.

It was an entertaining sight. Quite a bit heartwarming too.

A touch odd though since the Gaster-Dreemurr family hadn’t even entered the zoo proper yet - they’d only just left the car and begun walking through the parking lot.

Chara was currently taking a photo of a squirrel with their cell phone.

“Chara, don’t use up your battery before we even get in!” Asriel warned.

“But Azzyyy, fox squirrels are extremely rare in New England! They’re hard to find even in Pennsylvania! For one to be this far north is rare!”

«How do you _know_ that?» Frisk asked, awed.

Chara just shrugged and walked onward. Their siblings ran after them.

Sans and Toriel looked at each other and smiled.

They needed this just as much as the kids did.

 

* * *

Channing and Tatum stared at the letter that had come for them.

It looked fancy. The wax seal and slightly yellowy envelope helped. But the handwriting was kind of iffy. Legible, but iffy.

“What do you think it is?” Tatum asked.

“If you don’t know then I sure don’t,” Channing replied. “Should we open it?”

“It has our names on it…”

“That’s a yes.”

“Channing, wait -”

Too late.

Channing pulled out the letter and unfolded it. She beckoned Tatum over to read it with her.

_To Ms. Channing and Mr. Tatum Hager,_

_Thank you for submitting your video and written applications. My associates and I have confirmed that you are both Wizards, bearing Ice Magic._

_As such, we would like to extend you an invitation, which you will find enclosed with this letter. Your applications are appreciated._

_Sincere regards,_

_Caroline V. Marlow, Electricity Wizard_

Channing and Tatum’s eyes widened. They looked at each other.

Tatum dug in the envelope, taking out a black cardstock invitation with white lettering. Seven different colored hearts lined the edge, the red one at the top center.

_You are cordially invited to the first Wizard Symposium._

_The Symposium will be held at 5:37 P. M. on the 31st of October in 20XS, at the Myriad Event Center. Arrive early if you can in order to get properly settled. Costumes acceptable within limits. Food and drinks provided._

The invitation had contact information on it as well as times contact could be made.

“…Are we gonna go?” Tatum asked.

“Of course we are, we can wear costumes and they have free food,” Channing replied. “Do it for the food brother.”

Tatum sighed. “Very well.”

 

* * *

Leslie Roberts rang the doorbell of the Suarez residence.

A thin woman with long wavy dark brown hair and hazel eyes answered the door. Her heavily tattooed arms were visible, as she wore a white tank top and jeans. An old leather jacket was around her waist.

“Leslie, hola!” she greeted. “Gabriela’s in her room. Twins are at a friend’s house, Alejandro es Alejandro.”

“Thanks Carmen,” Leslie said, entering the home.

She walked down the hall and entered a room with a purple flower on it.

A girl with dark brown hair in a ponytail and brown eyes was doing science homework.

“Hey Gabs,” Leslie greeted.

Gabriela shoved the work off her bed.

“I’M FREEEE!” she cried out dramatically.

Leslie sighed.

“How much more you got?”

“Uh…five.”

Silence.

“…Pages of English.”

“…You’re working ahead in science? To avoid doing English?”

“At what point will we ever need to learn how to write five-page essays anyway?! Es loco!”

“Fair. Sam’s waiting for us at the mall. Ready?”

“Let me get shoes on!”

Once Gabriela had her shoes on the girls left.

“Wait!”

Carmen slid in and blocked the door with her body.

“Ayayay, Mami, what is it?” Gabriela griped.

“Have you seen your brother?”

“Which one?”

“Eddie.”

Silence.

“Leslie, is he at your house?”

“Not when I left,” Leslie responded. “Didn’t see him on my way there either…”

Silence.

Carmen calmly opened a closet door and took out a single flip-flop.

Meanwhile, about two and a half miles away, Eddie was suddenly filled with crippling fear.

 

* * *

The Gaster-Dreemurrs walked through the big cat exhibit. All the cats were in open-air exhibits, viewable either indoors from behind large glass windows or outdoors - the family had chosen the indoor route. Asriel munched on a frozen lemonade as he looked at a lion. Frisk stared in wonder at an ocelot as it licked its kittens clean.

Chara sat down in front of the Bengal tigers, legs crossed as they looked at the beasts.

One slowly stepped up to Chara and looked them in the eyes.

Chara avoided looking into the great beast’s golden eyes, instead focusing on its ears. Direct eye contact equals bad.

_“Do not look into a tiger’s eyes. They do not like that. Instead, look at their ears.”_

_“Maman, what does that have to do with that poem?”_

_“Tigers, ma bijou.”_

Chara blinked and sighed. They knew who said that.

But not how she knew it.

The tiger, sensing no threat from Chara, laid down and started to chill.

Chara slowly crawled closer. The tiger calmly observed them as they did.

Chara relaxed, leaning gently against the window.

The tiger did as well.

To many watching, it was as if the two were snuggling up together.

The sound of a familiar shutter clicking was heard.

Penelope looked at the image on the screen.

Some sunlight was peering through some leaves. The tiger’s golden eyes were a beautiful contrast to Chara’s ruby. One of Chara’s hands was pressed lightly against the glass, a gesture clearly symbolic of something vague and up to viewer interpretation.

“Hey Penelope!”

The girl yelped in surprise at Asriel’s greeting, grateful for the fact that her camera was on a lanyard.

Frisk waved at the still somewhat-panicky girl.

“H-hey guys!” she greeted. “Didn’t expect to see you here! Momma brought me here on a photo hunt!”

«Chara loves animals!» Frisk signed.

“They _really_ like tigers though,” Asriel said. “They actually told me what a tiger even _was.”_

“Tigers _are_ pretty cool,” Penelope admitted. “I like frogs though. They’re green and jumpy!”

“So why _is_ Chara staring at that tiger like that?” Asriel asked.

Frisk shrugged.

Chara didn’t notice. They were lost in thought.

 

* * *

Hunter stared at her reflection in the cafe window.

Hair extensions in platinum blonde, going past her shoulders. Mascara perfect - Linda’s was a little clumpy apparently. A bit of pale pink lip gloss too.

And she was in a dress. It was…almost 60’s-ish. A sleeveless black top half with a white collar bearing little pink pearl buttons, a baby blue knee-length skirt with white polkadots, white kitten heel sandals.

This wasn't her.

But…

Maybe someday…

“Something wrong sweetheart?”

She looked up at Mettaton. He looked a touch concerned despite his confident, breezy smile.

Hunter smiled back.

“I’ll be fine,” she replied.

 

* * *

Leland Schwartz sat in his office, staring at his tablet screen. He tapped his cigarette on the edge of the gold-plated ashtray and sipped some fernet.

His phone rang.

He picked it up.

“What?” he snapped.

_“Mr. Phelps is here to see you sir.”_

Schwartz sighed.

“Send him in.”

And he slammed the phone down.

He chugged down some more fernet.

A few moments later, a portly man with dark brown hair in a combover and hooded brown eyes entered.

Joseph Phelps. Sycophant to those above him, sadist to those beneath him, stupid to almost everyone else.

“You wanted to see me sir?” he asked.

“Yeah, I have a question,” Schwartz said.

“Yes sir?”

“What the hell were you thinking with that god-awful commercial? With the…that Chinese faggot rat?”

“W-well you see sir, I was hoping to appeal to the millennial demographic by -”

“It was a rhetorical question,” Schwartz interjected coldly. “You’re fired.”

Phelps looked horrified. “F-f-fired? B-but sir -”

“Do you know _anything_ about copyright laws?! Those Asians are going to come after _me_ because of _your_ mistake! You’re lucky it’s been pulled from all of the social media accounts already or you wouldn’t just be fired!”

Phelps was pale. Near tears.

Schwartz sneered. “You disgust me. You’re close to fucking _crying!_ You call yourself a man but here you are, _crying!_ Sick.”

Phelps tried not to sob. But it came out as an even more pathetic whimper and a few stray tears.

“Get out of my office before you soil yourself on top of everything else.”

“B-but s-sir - g-give me another chance, I-I’ll do anything -”

“Then give Ike Hess a blowjob and send me proof.”

Silence.

Schwartz picked up the phone.

“Security.”

Phelps was near tears as huge, burly men in suits and sunglasses dragged him from the room.

But they weren’t from fear or sadness.

Schwartz took a vial of glowing blue ooze from his desk drawer, broke the cap, and downed it like a shot.

His eyes grew bloodshot, sclera turning blue.

He stared out the glass wall onto the streets of New York. The Statue of Liberty had her back to him, facing the east.

“You never really saw us…the ones who really made you…I made you…and I…I’ll prove it to you…you’ll look at me someday…and _only_ me…”

 

* * *

“What in the name of the stars are you doing?”

The sound of boulders dragging on a stony lakebed stopped.

“This has nothing to do with my plan!”

“It has much to do with _my_ plan.”

Silence. Dragging boulders and splashing continued.

“What could your plan possibly need that requires you to move trash?”

No response. Only the sound of splashing and dragging boulders.

It was clear that no answer would be forthcoming at any time.

Slithering was heard.

From stones to crystals the scenery changed.

A second slithering was heard.

Then silence.

A serpent was there. Scales like marcasite, obsidian eyes with slit pupils of ivory, feathers of baby blue and white. She moved slowly, hindered by age.

“Mama Tlālli Most High.”

“You have fallen far, Mecatl Teuhcoatl,” the elder said calmly, voice trembling slightly with age.

“It’s Mecatl _Tlahtoacoatl,_ Mama Talālli Most High. I do forgive you though, what with your age and the commonness of my given name.”

“Is that how Acalan Xayacacoatl masked your Destiny from this world?”

The marcasite Feathered Serpent dodged a Magic stone dart by launching herself in the air with a wretchedly graceful swiftness, slowly floating back down with a smile.

“You dare besmirch my father to hide your foolishness?!”

“He lived up to his Destiny Name. As did your poor mother Itztli Malinacoatl. And so too shall you.”

“That I will. And when I become my Destiny I will have you and all your acolytes _destroyed.”_

The old Serpent chuckled.

“You _laugh_ at me…!”

“I laugh at your _words,_ my son.”

The elder dodged another dart with the same maddening grace and a playful giggle.

“You wouldn’t know it in your youth, but before I became Mama Tlālli Most High I was called Nenetl Nehtotilizcoatl~”

“You would have done well to stay there, _marcasite.”_

Mama Tlālli Most High sighed and shook her head. “I know the Destinies of _all_ whom I have named, and those my late predecessor did name. Yours is a wretched Destiny…but there are other ways to bring it about. It need not be as you think.”

Silence.

Mama Tlālli Most High slithered slowly back into the darkness.

Mecatl slithered onward.

His eyes of jasper glowed softly orange-gold with anger and resolve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Zoo - The Scorpions


	12. Foolin’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paper flowers, ponderings, pauses, and punch-outs.
> 
> Should be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick trigger warning for some mentions of blood and tobacco use by minors.
> 
> Also, I’m spoiling you guys, I know.

_9:32 A.M., September 14, 20XS_

 

_It’s a pretty nice day outside._

_The sun is shining._

_A breeze is blowing._

_On days like this, kids like you…_

 

_…are making decorations._

* * *

Three youths say on the floor of the art room of North Middle School.

Chara folded the yellow paper with near-expert precision. Frisk was doing the same with less success. Caroline was also folding some with considerably more success.

Combined, the trio had made exactly 798 flowers in the last two hours, with 521 of them having been made over the weekend.

“Remind whose idea this was again,” Caroline deadpanned.

“You really think _I_ know?” Chara snipped.

Frisk only shrugged.

“We’re too young to get carpal tunnel,” Caroline monotoned.

“I’m 116, so I should be like, dead,” Chara countered casually.

Frisk looked horrified. They looked at Chara with a slightly pained expression.

“The longest-lived Human ever was Jeanne-Louise Calment, who lived to be 122,” Caroline claimed. “You got a few more years until then.”

Silence.

“Don’t worry Frisk, you guys just might be immortal,” Caroline said.

The look on Frisk’s face told the world that Caroline’s words were _not_ helping.

“Salutations, Chara, Frisk, and Caroline!”

The girl and enbies looked up.

Zeke was smiling at them.

“Greetings,” Chara said, somewhat nervous.

Frisk waved with a smile.

“Hey Zeke,” Caroline said. “What brings you to our neck of the woods?”

Zeke tilted his head in confusion before realization dawned on his face.

“Oh! That was an idiom, or figure of speech, generally meaning the speaker’s current location!” he piped. “I saw you all and thought I would stop and ask to help you!”

Frisk nodded enthusiastically.

“Sure,” Caroline said. “Ever made paper flowers before?”

“I have not!” Zeke replied.

“It’s not that different from making a paper airplane,” Chara said. “You ever done that before?”

“I have not!” Zeke replied.

Silence.

“Have you…tried to?” Caroline asked.

“I have not!”

Silence.

Chara sighed. “Sit down. I’ll show you how it’s done.”

Zeke gasped and brightened. Caroline flinched as he did.

“Thank you so so much Chara!” he gushed.

Frisk was staring at Zeke like he was the most wholesome thing ever.

Chara just stared in confusion as Zeke sat down next to them - so slowly and methodically as to appear almost mechanical. Caroline watched with a suspicious expression. Then again, that was probably her face - ranging between suspicious or outright pissed at the universe.

Chara set a square of yellow paper on the floor in front of Zeke.

“Okay, here’s what you do,” Chara began. “Your turn it so a corner is facing you.”

Zeke did as he was instructed.

“Okay, then you fold it into a triangle.”

Zeke stared at the paper. He took it in his hands and…slowly, methodically, mechanically folded the paper in two to form a perfect triangle.

Chara stared.

“O…kay…now take one of the bottom corners of the triangle and fold it to the top corner.”

Zeke stared at the sheet and once again did so as slowly as possible.

“…Now do it with the other one. But try doing it faster.”

Zeke sped up by…not much. But it worked, he was a tiny but faster.

“Okay, now this part I dunno how to use words for so I’ll just show you, okay Zeke?”

“Okay!” Zeke piped.

Chara showed Zeke how to fold the rest of it. Zeke followed along, seeming to speed up in an attempt to match Chara’s pace.

Soon, after Chara finished their flower, Zeke was done with his.

“Wow,” Caroline deadpanned. “That’s immaculate as fuck.”

Zeke looked at his and Chara’s flowers.

“Are these meant to be pitcher plants?” he asked.

“Nah, they’re petals,” Chara said. “Six of them put together make a flower.”

Chara demonstrated, placing their and Zeke’s petals side by side with a few others.

Zeke’s eyes widened and sparkled.

“Wow! Amazing! It really does look like the primrose cultivar Golden Flower!”

Chara blinked.

For a moment the boy’s eyes seemed…almost purple? Weird.

Then again, who were they to think that? Their own eyes were red.

_Like a demon._

* * *

Asgore walked through the Underground, as he had many times before.

Preparations had been underway for a few days now. It was one of those secrets being whispered on the wind.

The Underground was to be open to the public, for the first time ever. There was no danger here.

All would see that now.

He stepped onto the ferry. The Riverperson was an eternal presence in the Underground. They had been there from the beginning - aside from Toriel and Gerson, they were almost certainly he oldest Monster. Though there were those who doubted they even _were_ a Monster. But they hadn’t a clue what they could be, so Monster was the best bet.

Any other concept was just too wretched or implausible to imagine.

“Tralala~ Am I the Riverman? Or am I the Riverwoman? It matters not~”

Asgore chuckled. “It is good to see you again. I request passage to Hotland, if you’d please.”

“Tralala~ Off we go, to the Land that is Hot~”

Their boat was off like a shot. The swiftest, most reliable form of transport in the Underground. For the first time in five years, they would see more traffic than they had in decades.

The sudden burst of heat after the cold of Snowdin and the cool dampness of Waterfall told him he was where he needed to be.

“Tralala~ Beware the Viper’s Fangs~”

Asgore smiled warmly

“Thank you, friend.”

He stepped off the ferry and looked about.

Despite everything, it was still as it had been left.

When it had been found the lava had been a meter lower. It had risen over the centuries. Dr. Gaster had surmised that Mt. Ebott - Mt. Gehenna, as it had been known centuries ago - was a dormant volcano, having last erupted in 1282 A.D. due for its eruption in the latter half of the 23rd century.

Asgore made his way to elevators, and off to New Home, greeting passing Monsters as he did.

The elevator opened. He stepped out.

Despite everything…it was still gray.

It filled him with melancholy.

But perhaps it was merely too sparse.

It merely needed a splash of color.

Lilac and gold sounded nice.

* * *

Lunchtime.

Brooke knew the basics of school lunch - namely, that it was utterly terrible and that if you had a brain or a parent who loved you you’d bring lunch from home.

She had exactly one of those two things.

So she took a bite of blueberry Greek yogurt, content with her solitude at her end of the table.

“Hey Brooke!”

Brooke looked up.

A Flower Monster girl made of vines sat down next to her. Her hair consisted of vines covered in little white flowers.

“Hey, uh…Jasmine, was it?” Brooke greeted, sincerely hoping she was wrong and that the Monster girl got offended.

“Yep!” the Monster said happily. “Jasmine Pampas! Mind if I sit with you?”

Brooke opened her mouth to say no, go away. But what came out instead…

“Sure, whatever.”

…surprised her.

Jasmine smiled.

Brooke blinked and returned to her food.

The lack of Book Club idiots roused her suspicion…

* * *

Shelby and Sienna sat down at an outdoor table at the cafe.

“So what did you call me here on my lunch break for?” Shelby asked.

“Got an update on your case,” Sienna replied.

Shelby leaned in, face eager.

“Did some digging,” Sienna said. “Guy made some really suspicious purchases in the last few months. Have a look.”

Sienna showed Shelby a photocopy of an invoice.

Shelby looked it over.

“…Oh my god.”

“Yep.”

“Some of this stuff is…”

“Yep.”

Silence.

“…What does this have to do with…?”

“It’s a start,” Sienna said. “It’s all I can do alone. But if the help I'm looking for accepts my request, we’ll be able to look back at his purchases as far back as the 1990’s.”

Shelby’s eyes widened.

“The…the 1990’s.…?!”

“That’s what I said.”

“But…! But that’s…!”

“If you have the right information you can do anything.”

Shelby was incredulous, to say the least.

“…Just how the hell do you _get_ stuff like this…?”

Sienna gave a sultry smile and wink.

“Magic.”

Shelby fought back a furious blush. Curse you bisexuality.

Sienna chuckled warmly.

“Careful sweetcheeks, I’m aro-ace,” she said.

“And I already like someone else,” Shelby grumbled.

“And you haven’t done anything about that in…three years was it?”

“Four.”

“You idiot.”

“He’s been hung up on his ex despite that fact that she’s engaged. He’s starting to really get over her, but their kids are…”

Sienna patted Shelby’s arm sympathetically.

“You want some lemon cream cake?” she asked. “I’m buying.”

Shelby smiled.

“Yeah…”

“But that’s no excuse to sit back with your thumbs up your ass.”

“The timing -”

“Can suck my ass, now you need a gameplan you’re gonna stick to or else.”

“Can it be my New Year’s resolution?”

“You actually gonna do it?”

“Maybe?”

“Then no until it’s a yes.”

Shelby groaned as Sienna stood up to get the cake.

* * *

Caroline, Frisk, Chara, and Zeke stared at the mound of paper flowers.

“How many of them _are_ there…?” Chara asked incredulously.

“I calculate exactly 947 paper flowers!” Zeke stated.

“Dang,” Caroline deadpanned.

“Dang, dang, dang…” Zeke said to himself. “Ah! I know what that is!”

“I uh, think we all know what that is -” Caroline started.

“Dang! Exclamation!” Zeke continued. “An expression of surprise or anger! And since I can see no reason for Caroline to be angry, her use of ‘dang’ could only be one of surprise!”

Silence.

“…Anyway, thank goodness we go started when we did or we’d be _so_ far behind!” Chara said, hoping to bring the mood back.

“How many flowers do we have to make?” Zeke asked.

“We have to make exactly 1,000 by tonight in preparation for tomorrow,” Caroline explained. “We worked on these all day yesterday and all evening Saturday. We were given permission from the principal to make these, since today and tomorrow are chill days due to the Barrierfall Anniversary.”

«We don’t have too many to go!» Frisk signed. «We can finish these before school gets out if we try!»

“Try to what, destroy our hands?” Chata sassed.

“We can do it,” Caroline said. “Just gotta **Persevere** , right?”

«And stay **DETERMINED**!» Frisk signed.

“Well when ya put it like that, of course we can!” Chara said, enthusiasm renewed. “Zeke! Wanna help us out the rest of the way?”

Zeke beamed, eyes shining.

“Yes! I do!” he said happily. “Thank you, Chara!”

Chara tilted their head in confusion. “Why are you thanking me?”

“Because you are allowing me to help you, despite the fact that I have never created origami flowers before this day!” Zeke explained. “It really means a lot to me!”

Chara just stared at Zeke, confused.

Their eyes widened a little, then they turned to face the flower mound with a grin.

“Let’s get to work then!” they said. “If we end up making extra, we can make them into garlands or centerpieces!”

“A valid point,” Caroline conceded, adjusting her glasses and rolling her sleeves up. “Let’s do this!”

Frisk’s expression was filled with **DETERMINATION.**

FILE: SAVE

…As Chara finished their petals, they found themself pondering Zeke’s eyes.

“…Indigo…”

“Hm? Did you say something Chara?” Zeke asked, working on his own.

Chara just smiled and shook their head. “Nothing.”

They continued with their petals.

Frisk looked on with an odd expression as they made their petal. They looked at Caroline, who was doing the same.

Caroline looked at them.

Both shrugged and continued their work.

* * *

It was something unspoken that everyone noticed.

After all, Nicko Cantrell was widely considered one of the most popular boys in school. Kristina Ketal was considered among the smartest girls in school. The pairing, at a glance from those who didn’t know them well, was odd at best.

Those who did know them well saw it coming a mile away and are desperate for it to actually fucking happen for real.

But as far as the pair in question was concerned, the calm that existed between them was a precious thing.

But Kristina noticed that Nicko was a touch…tense?

“Um, N-Nicko, are you okay?” she asked.

Nicko blinked and turned to her with a smile that, if the Bat-Rabbit Hybrid didn’t know better, had caused the sun to go supernova. With how hot her face was, _she_ was likely to go supernova.

“I’m alright, Tina,” he replied quietly - oh man his accent made her heart break the laws of physics. “I’m just worried - Eddie’s not shown all day…”

“Oh dear,” Kristina said nervously. “Do you think he’s sick?”

“If he was he’d’ve texted a list of symptoms is gross detail,” Nicko said. “He’s too shameless _not_ to.”

“Oh…then what could it be?”

“That’s the thing - with Eddie Suarez, it could be anything from just ditching to something that could get him hurt.”

Kristina was suddenly very concerned.

“So the usual for ‘im,” Nicko said with a shrug, clearly used to his friend’s antics.

Kristina was _not_ placated by this in the slightest.

“I just hope he’s not planning something _too_ stupid,” Nicko commented to himself.

“I honestly agree…”

Silence.

Perfect, unadorned silence.

* * *

The final bell of the day rang out.

Brooke walked briskly to her locker - the teacher who watched the halls on Monday afternoons was extremely strict about running in the halls. She opened her locker and removed the garbage and poorly-spelled death threats - plus a few equally poorly-spelled love letters.

How did she manage to draw people without brains?

Then she heard a slam against the locker behind her open locker door.

She sighed and closed her locker.

Eddie was staring at her, a cocky smirk on her face.

He had a guitar.

“Hola,” he said. “Leaving so soon?”

Brooke tensed - fear, anger, revulsion, all of it threatened to make her explode.

“You have until the count of three to _go away,”_ she hissed coldly.

Eddie’s laughed. “Oh come on, really -”

“One.”

“Oh, wait you were serious -”

_“Two.”_

“Wait, at least let me play -”

“Oh look, _three!”_

Brooke swung her fist.

It hit Eddie’s face with a sickening crunch.

The sound of gasps went unheard by Brooke as she stormed off.

A few kids checked on Eddie. Others murmured that he had it coming.

Some looked at Brooke in fear.

Brooke paid them no mind as she left the school building.

She had gymnastics to practice.

* * *

Scott stood behind the gym. Where the cool kids hang out.

They were just standing there. Doing nothing.

Scott, knowing a thing or two about coolness, was aware that this was the peak of coolness.

He saw one of them take out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket.

For a moment he was conflicted. He’d heard a lot about how bad smoking was.

…But then why did people still do it so much?

Scott turned to the kid with the cigs, an older Human who looked like he should be a high school sophomore.

“Hey,” he said. “Gimme one.”

The older kid stared at Scott.

“Think you can take it?” he asked.

“You questioning me?” Scott asked arrogantly. “Do you have any idea who my dad is?”

“Who gives a shit about your dad? I’m askin’ _you.”_

“Just give me a damn cig or else,” Scott snapped.

“Okay, just don’t tell your daddy to sue me if you can’t take it,” the older kid said, giving Scott a cigarette.

Scott snatched it and put it in his mouth.

He just stood there for a good five minutes with an unlit cig in his mouth like a moron.

“You gonna light it?” the older kid asked.

“You light it!” Scott demanded.

The older kid punched Scott in the face, causing the younger boy to bite the cigarette.

The older kid threw the lighter on the ground.

“Light it yourself, ya racist pissbaby,” the older kid growled as he stormed off.

Scott watched in anger, the taste of paper and tobacco in his mouth.

He stared at the lighter on the ground. The cigarette was still in his mouth.

He picked up the lighter and lit the cig.

His lungs burned for the first few minutes, like they were filled with a cloud of death.

But after a bit he got used to it.

Maybe after a while he’d like it.

Maybe he could even as his dad to teach him how to smoke.

Yeah. That’d be fun. Maybe over fall break they could go on a hunting trip and - yeah!

Scott smiled at the thought.

He sighed.

Smoke flowed through his mouth and nose.

It burned nicely.

* * *

Becky sat in her room, finishing her homework.

Well, what she could anyway. Her mother told her it was okay if she couldn’t answer a problem - Mommy would handle it. Mommy handles things so Becky won’t have to.

Becky thought nothing of it. Or anything.

There was no need.

Not even seeing that strange little boy in the corner of her room made her think.

…

Wait.

Becky did a double take.

There actually was what appeared to be a little boy in the corner of her bedroom.

He was brown-haired and blue-eyed, with a bright gap-toothed smile. He seemed to be a bit younger than Becky, but about a year or two.

He waved at Becky.

Becky wasn’t sure what to do. She was never told what to do if random boys appeared in her room.

She waved at him.

The boy gasped.

“You see me?” he asked, voice sounding…echo-y?

Becky just tilted her head in confusion.

“Oh, uh…the Sirs never told me about this, uh…h-hi! My name’s Hamish! And uh…I’m dead.”

Becky’s eyes widened.

She turned on her nightlight, turned off her ceiling light, and hid herself under the covers.

* * *

Chara sat in the doctor’s office with Toriel.

They were filled with anxiety.

Dr. Michaels sighed.

“I guess you have a feeling about what I’m going to tell you,” she said.

“I won’t know until you tell me,” Chara said calmly. “So if you’d please?”

Dr. Michaels looked at Chara strangely then took out some paper and an X-ray.

“So in your right leg, there’s a malunion fracture of the tibia - right here,” she said, pointing to a weirdly-shaped part of the bone. “It’s really quite mild -”

“So there is nothing to worry about,” Chara finished.

Toriel gave Chara A Look.

Dr. Michaels sighed and shook her head.

“It’s not nearly that simple,” she said. “Malunion fractures can have serious long-term complications, such as arthritis and weakening or shortening of the bone in the area - and at a far younger age than in most cases. In the short term, there’s swelling and sensitivity.”

“None of which I have had even _once_ since I broke this at the age of eight,” Chara snipped. “So it’s a weirdly-shaped hunk of bone - so’s my Dunkle.”

“Chara, please,” Toriel snapped.

Dr. Michaels sighed.

“The point is, we’ll have to re-break the bone and reset it,” she said. “It’s for the best in the long term. But we can meet next month to properly discuss when you’d like to have the surgery, as well as what the surgery will entail.”

“…Does that mean no volleyball?” Chara asked.

Dr. Michaels shook her head with an apologetic smile.

“Not this year, Chara. I’m sorry.”

Chara just lowered their head.

Toriel just held her child close.

* * *

Jayme and Audrey sat in the dance classroom at Ebott High, genuinely confused and shocked.

Before them stood a female Bat Monster with white fur, cropped pastel purple hair with black streaks, and bright yellow ears and nose and wings. She wore a black zip-up halter top with a studded collar, red plaid leggings, and black jazz dance shoes. This was Michelle “Misty” Ketal, the new dance teacher at Ebott High. However nobody calls her Michelle if they want to live.

“So…you want us to…dance in an exhibition,” Jayme said incredulously. “As a duet.”

“It won’t be until the end of the year,” the Bat said. “And it was an offer. Open until December.”

“But Miss Misty, we suck!” Audrey protested.

Misty crossed her arms.

“Look, I wouldn’t have offered you this chance if you sucked,” she said. “You two are good. You have great chemistry on the dance floor too - you two dance better standing next to each other.”

“How does that equal chemistry?” Jayme asked.

Misty smiled.

“You’ll see,” she said. “I’m a Bat, but I’m sure as hell not blind. My mother is though…”

Audrey chuckled a bit.

Jayme was lost in thought, a small blush on her face.

* * *

Brooke put jeans and a jacket on over her leotard before putting her shoes on to leave the gymnastics center.

“I hear Coach Anya’s wanting Brooke Lane to go to state.”

“After how she did at regionals it’s no wonder. She beat out _Edgemere Prep_ girls.”

“Edgemere Prep?! But those are rich high school girls with like, private tutors for that stuff!”

“Yeah. But Brooke Lane is _special.”_

The vitriol the word was said with didn’t escape Brooke. Gossip rarely did really.

Being quiet had its advantages.

Brooke stood up and walked past the girls in question - a pair of eighth graders.

One shrunk back. The other crossed her arms and turned up her nose defiantly.

“What are you going to do, tattle?” she sneered.

“Do you want me to?” Brooke asked calmly.

The girl growled.

“Come on Lexi, let’s go.”

“O-okay.”

The two left.

Brooke let out a breath she had no idea she’d been holding.

She growled and punched the nearest locker - once, twice, thrice.

She stared at her hand after the third punch.

The grills had scraped her hand.

Three perfect bleeding lines.

…

Maybe punching wasn’t the best response.

But then again, it wasn’t her fault she got angry.

…But what she did in her anger was.

* * *

“You’re an idiot.”

“I know.”

“You went way too far.”

“I know.”

“When you see that girl you’re going to apologize so hard -”

“Mami, I know!”

Carmen wiped away the last of the dried blood from Eddie’s face and kissed his cheek.

“She messed up too,” she said. “The punching was taking it too far. But you didn’t help by being a creepy pendejo.”

Eddie lowered his head. He had no shame in any situation, but guilt was another story.

“You’re going to apologize next time you see her,” Carmen said.

“Si, Mami.”

Carmen sighed and hugged her son.

“Still better than that Kayleigh Bender fiasco.”

“It is.”

* * *

Chara sat on their bunk, the needle and thread in their hand doing their intended duty.

They loved working with lace, especially silk or linen lace. For this piece, the lace was cream-colored linen applique flowers over an ashen rose (it sounds less horrific than dusty rose) tulle. A vintage thing, lovely and light.

Chara smiled as the dress formed in their mind and hands.

They had two more months. They started four months ago, and they were halfway there.

…They’d never been one for stereotypically “feminine” pursuits. But fashion design - as it was called now - was fun. Creative.

Before they knew it they’d finished the bit they’d been working on.

They took a pocket knife and cut the end of the thread.

They held up the piece - a beautiful, regal ball gown skirt - and smiled.

Now to just attach it to the bodice.

Tomorrow they would do just that, then begin work on the sleeves this weekend!

They looked at the clock on their phone and gasped.

One in the morning? Really?

They sighed and turned their phone and lamp off.

Isolde the cat snuggled up to them as they drifted off into sweet dreams.

Their last thought was one of hope.

* * *

_Children filled with hopes and dreams and plans for the future fill you with_

_D E T E R M I N A T I O N_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Foolin’ - Def Leppard


	13. Wind Of Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What’s five years to five hundred? What’s forgiving to forgetting? What’s freedom to captivity?
> 
> This chapter won’t answer that, but have fun breaking your brain trying to figure it out yourself!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 52 pages - longest chap in this story so far!
> 
> …
> 
> *faints*

_7:34 A.M., September 15, 20XS_

 

_It’s a beautiful day outside._

_Birds are singing._

_Flowers are blooming._

_On days like this, kids like you…_

 

_…are celebrating the biggest milestone of your life so far._

* * *

Frisk looked in the mirror at their outfit.

A short-sleeved white shirt with ruffles all down the front, a black vest with pearl buttons, black shorts, nylon stockings, black boots. At the center of the collar of the shirt was a golden brooch, enameled with a Delta Rune.

They hopped in place excitedly.

It’s today.

Five years ago, they gained a family.

They turned to Chara.

They were in a black buttondown shirt with a white waistcoat and slacks, and white chelsea boots. They also had a red cravat tied about their neck and tucked into the waistcoat. At the cravat knot was Chara’s Delta Rune brooch.

Asriel was in a simple black three-piece suit with a purple tie, his Delta Rune brooch at the knot in his tie. He wasn’t wearing shoes - he didn’t much anyway. Not many shoes fit on paws, after all.

“Why are we so fancy?” he asked.

“Because there’s a festival planned today after school,” Chara explained. “It’s going to be in the Underground. Televised too. A lot of diplomats will be there.”

Frisk paused at that last bit.

Asriel was silent as well.

Chara seemed utterly calm about it.

“Caroline will be there too,” they said. “Promoting the Wizard cause.”

Silence.

“Well, let’s get going!” Chara piped.

As they left the room, their younger siblings looked at each other.

They shrugged and followed.

* * *

Caroline stared at herself in the bathroom mirror.

White was so not her color.

But it was tradition, so she’d heard from the most reputable sources on the subject.

But still.

A long white hooded robe, a braided purple cord at her waist, simple sandals, and a crown of violets and asters circling her long black hair. At the place where the hood met in the front was a brooch - a purple heart with a white jagged line down the middle imposed over a four-pointed yellow star. The sign of a Wizard with a Purple SOUL.

She did look mystical.

But…really that was it.

Otherwise the outfit felt… _wrong_ on her.

Caroline got an idea.

She grabbed a spiked choker and put it on.

She smiled.

Better.

This was more like her.

Maybe she could put the brooch in a chain and attach it to the choker…?

Later.

School time.

* * *

In the blue light of Waterfall, “rain” is falling.

A small Cat Monster in a kimono is running along the path, panting heavily.

She reaches the dump and wades through the water - she’s so small the water reaches her chest.

She reaches into her obi and takes out a piece of paper and a jade-green string. She ties the paper to a random piece of garbage sticking out and runs away.

She stops at an Echo Flower.

She whispers into it.

“…I hope ohime-sama lives forever…”

She runs off toward Snowdin.

Ohime-sama is waiting.

* * *

Brooke turned in her work, blowing her bangs from her face.

The empty seat beside did not go unnoticed.

The Suarez boy wasn’t at school that day.

Or at least not in this class. He did tend to skip, last she’d heard.

…She’d heard people whisper about how weird it was that he was only in third and sixth period with any sort of regularity. The ones he had with her.

She did not know how to feel about that.

But Alicia’s absence wasn’t a big deal on a normal day. Especially today, since it was big Monster thing and her parents were in the HWC.

But somehow, Alicia and her thus-far empty threats were the furthest from her mind.

She clearly wasn’t going to apologize today it seemed…

Brooke sighed and opened her notebook to start drawing a mandala.

She felt a piece of paper hit her head. And heard some giggles.

She sighed and turned around to face the girls who’d thrown the thing.

“Alicia’s not here you know,” she deadpanned. “So why even bother? She’s gonna _hate_ you because she wants to make me miserable _personally.”_

The girls stopped. They suddenly looked afraid.

Brooke took the opportunity to leave the classroom and wander the school. It _had_ been decorated after all. It’d be a waste not to see it.

* * *

“What does Magic feel like?”

“How did you get it?”

“Can you show me your Magic?”

Caroline was about to snap.

She was so fucking close.

She had to escape.

“…No comment. Now if you’ll excuse me.”

And with that she ran. Fast.

She entered the library and ran to the supply room in the back.

She heard a loudish thud.

She paused.

She slowly turned toward the source of the sound.

A pair of Humans - twins, it seemed, with cocoa-brown hair and icy blue eyes - were sitting under a table. They’d apparently been startled into jumping and slamming their heads on the underside of the table.

Caroline stared at them briefly.

…Then she felt something.

Her eyes widened.

“…So uh…did you two get your invitations?” she asked.

The twins just looked up at her.

Then they…nodded.

“Okay, good, that makes what I’m about to say less awkward,” she managed. “Okay then, here goes. My name is Caroline Marlow. I’m an Electricity Wizard, in seventh grade here. And you are?”

The twins looked up.

“Ch-Channing Hager,” the twin in the powder blue polo dress managed.

“T-T-T-Tatum,” the twin in the powder blue polo and khaki shorts managed with less success than his sister.

“W-we’re Ice Wizards,” they said in unison, down the stammer.

Caroline walked over and crouched so she and the twins were eye level.

“So you go to school here?” she asked.

The twins nodded. “Sixth g-grade,” Channing said.

“I see,” Caroline murmured. “Do you two…like reading?”

The twins stared at her weirdly.

“Sometimes…?” Channing replied.

“I like it,” Tatum muttered.

“I have a Book Club,” Caroline said. “If you guys wanna join you can.”

Silence.

“Every Tuesday after school. We have cupcakes -”

_“Where do we sign.”_

* * *

Chara sat by Asriel, biting into their Nutella sandwich.

“So she broke your nose and you _still_ wanna date her?” Chara deadpanned. “You a masochist or something?”

Eddie laughed. His nose had a bandage covering it to keep it in place as it healed.

“Nah mang, it’s like…I actually wanna get to know _her._ Like her-her, not hot-her. I mean she is hot, but like…”

He sighed.

“I dunno. It’s…loco.”

“Understatement there,” Nicko mumbled.

“You have issues,” Bruce added.

“Hey, don’t make me regret being your wingman!” Eddie snapped.

Bruce just raised his hands in a whoa-man-calm-down gesture.

Eddie sighed.

“I wanna apologize to her, but like…no way she’ll accept,” he said.

“Listen,” Chara began, “you creeped on her, she broke your nose. You done goofed, but she didn’t have to go that far. It was _both_ of you, dumbshit.”

Silence.

“You a parent or something?” Eddie asked.

“I’m the oldest Dreemurr Sibling,” Chara replied.

“That answers nothing -”

“I’m like twelve, Eduardo, I don’t do the required physical exercises. Now Courtney Day, on the other hand -”

“Actually, Courtney hasn’t been doing…anything,” Nicko said. “Not since…”

Silence.

“Hey,” Asriel said through a mouthful of oatmeal raisin cookie, “where’s Frisk?”

* * *

“Um…will you go out with me?”

Frisk stared at the girl - a seventh grader, Human, Mountainside student. Wavy brown hair and big brown eyes, a bit taller than Frisk. Raina Ruiz.

Frisk stared at her.

They ran through options.

They didn’t like Raina like that - she was cute, yeah, the twelfth cutest girl in their grade. But…Frisk didn’t like, _know_ her. You know?

But maybe if they dated her they could maybe get to know her!

Frisk nodded with a smile.

«Maybe we could get to know each other first?» they signed.

Raina just looked confused.

Frisk’s eyes widened as they blushed in embarrassment.

Raina just smiled - oh stars oh stars she had a cute smile.

“You could teach me how to do that!” she said.

Frisk beamed and blushed.

Gail and Rowan facepalmed.

This kid was just way too nice.

* * *

All the Underground was abuzz with life and Magic for the first time in five years.

But there would soon be far more.

More life.

More Magic.

More _everything._

For those who lacked **DETERMINATION** , it was something close. For those who bore it, it was something different.

Hope.

Perhaps that was it.

When **DETERMINATION** was lacking, hope remained. When faith was lost, hope remained.

As the Cat Monster looked at the argent windows, and the light they cast on the gold and pearlescent tiles and white marble colonnades that lined the Judgement Hall, she was filled with this centuries-old sense of hope.

“Chiyo-chan? Where are you?”

The girl perked up.

“C-coming, ohime-sama!”

She ran.

* * *

Brooke leaned back on the bleachers with a sigh.

He was definitely avoiding her.

Well, at least today they’d be watching a movie Coach Undyne had left on for them.

_“Zankoku na tenshi no you ni~ Shounen yo, shinwa ni nare~”_

…On second thought, fuck this weeaboo shit.

Brooke walked out with no regrets.

About halfway down the hall, she stopped herself as she nearly walked into someone.

She looked up, blue eyes wide.

Eddie looked down at her, his own eyes wide.

“Uh…hola?” he managed awkwardly.

“Uh…hi,” Brooke replied with equal awkwardness.

Silence.

Eddie cleared his throat.

“I uh…just wanted to -”

“I’m sorry I broke your face.”

Silence.

Eddie stared at Brooke.

She was practically glaring at him, fists clenched at her sides.

…Except she wasn’t. Her gaze was hard, to be sure, but that’s because she was taking this seriously.

She had the **Integrity** to give him that much.

Eddie smiled. Something about it was…different.

“Hey, no te preocupes!” he said. “I did kinda deserve it, I mean, I was being kinda creepy…uh, sorry about that…”

Brooke blinked.

“…First of all I have _no_ idea what you just said,” she deadpanned. “Second of all…apology accepted.”

Eddie just kept smiling.

“Muy bien! And eh, no te preocupes means, uh…I dunno, but it’s what mi familia says when something’s no big deal, or something.”

Brooke sighed with relief.

“Also, uh…if you don’t mind, I’d like to…start over?” Eddie said. “Do it right this time. No stalking on my end, no face-breaking on your end.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Bien! Ah…yo soy Eduardo Suarez, pero everyone calls me Eddie!”

Brooke paused briefly before speaking. She had a tiny smile on her face.

“Brooke Lane. Nice to meet you.”

Eddie felt his heart go into overdrive at the sight.

Yep. He’s done for.

“You uh…wanna stop by Book Club after this?” he asked.

Brooke stopped smiling and tensed.

“…They wouldn’t…I mean…”

“Trust me, they take anyone who’s willing to read the books and eat the cupcakes,” Eddie reassured. “But if you still insist that’s fine!”

Brooke relaxed ever so slightly.

“…Just a trial run,” she mumbled.

Eddie’s smile brightened.

This was going to either be really great or really bad.

* * *

Undyne sat on the bed in the master bedroom. Her eyes were wide.

“…You’re sure?”

Alphys nodded.

“You wanna tell them today?”

“Y-yeah…”

Undyne smiled brightly.

“Well, that just makes today big for _two_ reasons then huh?!”

“Heheh, y-yeah…”

Undyne hugged Alphys close.

“Let’s go get Mamo-chan dressed,” Undyne said. “In a _tiny tux!”_

“H-heck yeah! Tiny tux!”

The wives laughed.

They couldn’t wait to share the news.

* * *

Becky sat in her room staring at a wall. Her mother wouldn’t let her go to school for some reason.

She couldn’t think of anything else to do.

She’d never had to.

The strange boy with the strange name was still in the corner of her room.

His smile was so innocent.

“Sooo, do you have a name?” he asked.

Becky said nothing. Her mother was always the one to respond when Becky was asked a question. Becky only answered questions when under a spotlight with a crown on the line.

Hamish just stared at Becky.

“…Okay, nice to meetcha _Nothing._ Sheesh, I thought _I_ was the dead one.”

Becky didn’t respond. She just stared at Hamish.

She didn’t know what else to do.

She’d never had to.

* * *

Sans was just leaving work to head home when he received a text message.

_*1 text from: zappy*_

_Caroline.txt: Dr. Sans, how many people can you shortcut at once?_

_Sans.txt: p sure ur whole club_

_Caroline.txt: You’ll only need around half. Exact numbers are forthcoming._

_Sans.txt: ok_

Sans put away his phone and paused.

Dr. Carlson’s dirty white Toyota Camry was there.

Sans casually wrote “wash me” in the dirt with his phalange tip before casually returning to his motorcycle and putting on his helmet and riding away.

He felt like a goddamn bad boy.

* * *

The Ebott Chapter of the HWC was abuzz with business.

Today they would be standing around Mt. Ebott in protest. No counter protest would be there - nobody but HWC members knew.

Even the chapter president would be there. _That’s_ how big a deal it was.

People stood about making signs and practicing chants.

HWC officers wandered about “supervising”. That is to say, just taking a stroll and not helping other than to offer vague constructive criticism.

Then again they could afford not to.

Craig sat next to a blond man with hollow blue eyes, staring at the news on his tablet and waiting for an email.

“Luther, how much in donations so far?” he asked.

“$27,439,” the blond man replied.

Craig turned to him, eyes wide with…fear?

“Impossible,” he said. “We’re supposed to have at least $50,000 by sundown! At this rate we’ll _never_ get enough for the officer’s luncheon at The Lighthouse!”

“Well Craig, membership _has_ declined since May -”

“Wire it.”

Silence.

“I said _wire it.”_

“I was gonna do that anyway you know…”

“Send some to the police too. They’re doing us a big favor by ignoring all this you know.”

* * *

Caroline stared out at the Book Club.

Holy hell the numbers had intensified in the last few weeks.

A few were looking at her strangely. No doubt due to the outfit.

Good thing her face held the eternal default expression of “fuck off I’m reading”.

But she sighed and managed to look at the crowd.

“Good afternoon,” she stated, in a voice so confident it shocked her a little. “Welcome, members new and old, to Book Club. I am Caroline Marlow, founder and president. Today we will be having a free day due to the Barrierfall Anniversary. The Book Club will be taking a field trip to the Underground to partake in the festivities. If you wish to join, just sign the paper on the desk by the podium. For today, we’ll be having cupcakes - make note that all cupcakes are kosher, halal, and hypoallergenic, made by the incomparable Book Club vice president Penelope DeMartino with help from her elder brother, Book Club bouncer Theodore DeMartino.”

Applause. Some kids were clearly surprised that Theo was even in Book Club after last year.

“And with that you are free to laze about. Have a good day.”

And with that people scattered. Caroline waited a bit before taking a turn about the room.

She stopped to see Nicko and Kristina first.

Kristine looked up at her and smiled.

“H-hey Caroline!” she said.

Nicko nodded stoically.

“Hey,” Caroline said. “You guys doing okay?”

“Yep!” Kristina chimed. “We’ll be able to make the field trip too - my mom will be a part of a dance exhibition!”

“Ah, you mentioned she’s started work as a dance teacher at the high school,” Caroline recalled. “That should be fun.”

Kristina beamed. “My dad will be there too. He wrote an article about the festival in the paper that was well-received!”

“I read it,” Caroline said with a nod. “No wonder it was a hit.”

Kristina nodded and hummed.

“And you Nicko? How are you?” Caroline asked. “You can sign if that’s what you’re up for.”

Nicko just gave a thumbs up.

“That in response to the how are you or the signing thing?”

“First thing,” Nicko replied.

“Ah, okay. I think I’ll go check on some others. See you later.”

“See you!”

“Hm.”

And with that Caroline went to seek other Book Club members.

She stopped when she spotted Eddie and Brooke.

Her eyes widened in curiosity.

She walked over to the unlikely pair and cleared her throat to get their attention.

Brooke looked up, eyes wide.

Eddie just smiled.

“Hey, Caroline!” he greeted. “Sup amiga?”

“Membership quota,” Caroline said. “How are you two doing?”

“I’m good,” Eddie replied. “And si, we both apologized.”

“I doubt you’d be here if you hadn’t. You were pretty dead-set on that apology.”

And with that she turned to Brooke.

“And you? How are you?”

Brooke just gestured to herself in confusion. Caroline nodded.

“I…I’m fine, thanks,” she managed.

“That’s good,” Caroline said with a nod. “So are you just sitting in for a bit?”

Brooke nodded.

“I see. Well, make yourself comfy. Also, are either of you guys coming to the field trip?”

“I know I am!” Eddie said. “Brooke? You able to make it?”

“Sure,” Brooke replied. “Not much better to do this evening…”

“Well, see you both then,” Caroline said.

And with that she went around the room a few more times. Chatting and checking, checking and chatting. It was exhausting.

Why did she bother?

And why could she not imagine _not_ doing this?

Caroline sighed as she made her final stop.

Theo and Penelope.

She sat beside Penelope with an exhausted thud and moved so she was sitting upside-down with her hair all over the floor - thank stars for long skirts.

“I am so done,” she sighed.

“Bet you’re regretting this now,” Theo deadpanned.

“…Actually, I’m…not,” Caroline managed. “I can’t understand it, I hate people with a burning passion, but…this is like…different?”

“Maybe it’s because you don’t see them as people, but as individuals?” Penelope suggested.

Caroline paused at this.

“…Nah, I think it’s because I hate myself just that much,” she deadpanned.

“Well don’t, you’re amazing and deserve the universe!” Penelope said firmly.

Caroline just stared at Penelope from her upside-down position.

She knew who _really_ deserved the universe, and she had verdant green eyes and soft black curls.

She who deserves the universe smiled at her from above, the fluorescent lights forming a halo of sorts.

“…If you say so.”

* * *

It was almost time.

The final preparations were being made.

Asgore was currently chatting with a pair of Monsters - Mama Tlālli Most High, a Quetzalcoatl Monster; and a Nekomata Monster, with longish pale golden fur with black ears, black stripes on the ends of her two tails, and a black diamond-shaped mark on her forehead, and jewel green eyes, wearing an elaborate kimono chosen specially for the Barrierfall Festival.

With the Nekomata was a smaller Cat Monster, a Maine Coon with blue eyes, wearing a less elaborate but no less lovely kimono.

“It has certainly been a while, has it not Miss Murakami?” Asgore asked.

“Indeed, your majesty,” the Nekomata concurred with a smile. “And please, call me Shinju!”

“And Mama Tlālli Most High! It’s a pleasure to see you in such good health!”

Mama Tlālli Most High chuckled. “And I heard that the young prince and prinx are among us once again, Asgoro,” she said. “If I may be so bold as to assume that Dr. Gaster was behind it?”

Asgore smiled. “He was a factor, yes.”

Shinju turned to the smaller Cat Monster and smiled.

“Chiyo-chan, do you mind leaving us alone to talk for a moment?”

The Cat Monster nodded. “Yes, ohime-sama.”

And with that Chiyo left, sparing a glance back at Shinju before heading on her way.

As soon as Chiyo was out of sight, Shinju smiled apologetically. “She’s…attached. I’ve been trying to convince her to branch out, but…”

Asgore chuckled. “It’s almost as if she’s imprinted…”

Mama Tlālli Most High chuckled. “It is good that you want her branch out, Miss Shinju. But you must be careful of her…”

“She’ll be fine, Mama Tlālli Most High,” Shinju assured. “She’s a bright girl.”

Mama Tlālli Most High merely nodded.

“Asgore! There you are!”

Asgore perked up as Shelby arrived. She was a touch out of breath, and still in her work clothes - a fuchsia pencil dress with a yellow flower patter accented with a black belt and a suit jacket, with black tights and fuschia heels. Impressively, her bun was as immaculate as it could possibly be despite having seemingly run here.

Shinju’s eyes grew wide.

“…Did you…come here wearing that?” she asked. “The whole way?”

Shelby sighed as she dusted herself off.

“I changed into different shoes for the hike up the mountain,” she said.

“Well, I am very glad to see you, Miss Wong,” Asgore said, smiling more warmly than he had all day.

Shinju covered her mouth with a paw in surprise. She turned to Mama Tlālli Most High, as if to ask if she was seeing the same thing.

Mama Tlālli Most High just smiled at the scene.

Shinju just sighed and did the same.

* * *

Misty was doing some stretches. Leg way, way up in the air, high above her head.

Sitting nearby, notebook and pen in hand, was a strongly-built Rabbit Monster with brown fur and a mop of messy orange hair,  and brown eyes with reading glasses.

“Gonna stretch Reggie?” Misty asked, lowering her leg before lifting it up again from a different angle while stretching out her wings.

“After I finish this paragraph!” the Rabbit said. “Ugh, I need to buy a thesaurus…”

Misty rolled her eyes.

“There’s one in the Librarby for you _when we finish the show!”_ she snapped.

Reggie sighed and pouted a little.

Misty chuckled.

“Tina’s bringing along some friends of hers,” she said.

“That Cantrell boy too, I’m guessing?” Reggie inquired.

“Yep. She liiiikes him~”

“She - wait, what?”

_“Dancers, to your positions for one last rehearsal!”_

Misty clicked her tongue. “Welp, it’s time. C’mon Diggy, we got butt to kick!”

Reggie blinked as Misty grabbed his hand. “But we’re not at a competiooooAAAACK!”

He did not finish the statement, for Misty had dragged him to their position.

* * *

Sans stared at the number he’d received on his phone, eyelights dark.

_Sans.txt: who r u and what have u done with caroline_

_Caroline.txt: I wish I knew. But yeah, can you take 48 students from the ages of 11 to 16 with you? You will be appropriately compensated, I assure you._

_Sans.txt: ok_

_Sans.txt: i can do that_

_Caroline.txt: Thank you. We are all located at the rocketship park._

Sans yeeted himself onto the couch - he would have tossed himself onto it, but that would deprive him of a meme.

Caroline, in the span of three years, went from quiet and aloof, intent on avoiding everyone to…

…still quiet and aloof, only now she stoically tolerated the presence of sapient lifeforms in her general vicinity. But Sans could tell that none were more shocked about this than the girl herself.

He’d be more impressed by the level of her apparent denial if he didn’t experience the same thing from time to time.

After a moment of resting his eyes, he got up and shortcutted to the aforementioned destination.

He casually stood before the group of 48 secondary school students, some of whom screamed in shock at the sudden presence of an actual Skeleton that was clearly not there before, others of whom just casually greeted him.

Caroline was at the front of the group. She adjusted her crown of violets and asters and pushed her glasses up before walking up to Sans.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

Sans gave a thumbs up.

“Good.” She turned toward the group and stood up tall.

“ARE WE READY?” she shouted.

Cheering from the crowd.

She seemed surprised at this.

She turned to Sans with wide eyes.

“…Let’s…get going then,” she said.

“okay.”

* * *

Sienna’s crown of purple aster flowers and blue morning glories contrasted beautifully with her blonde hair. She wore it with the traditional Wizard regalia - hooded robe, brooch with a yellow heart with a jagged white line through it imposed over a gold four-pointed star. She’d done her forelock of hair into a braid, woven with a plain white satin ribbon.

She knocked on a door.

“Joel!” she called. “You about done in there?”

The door opened. Joel was just wearing a light blue polo and some black jeans with black hi-tops.

Sienna stared at him.

When Joel looked up at Sienna, he suddenly felt very self-conscious.

“I’m underdressed aren’t I,” he murmured.

“Nah, you’re fine,” Sienna said, tousling the lad’s hair. “I’m just dressed like this because Wizard.”

“Oh…”

“Dunno if there’s anything for Mediums,” she noted. “I could always ask.”

Joel said nothing.

Sienna looked at him.

Then she looked at Uncle.

Uncle just shook his head with a smile.

* * *

Gaster wandered through Snowdin, his black robe trimmed with purple trailing behind him as he walked. His cane did its job well, even in the ever-present blanket of snow that covered Snowdin.

He got stares wherever he went anyway. He just had a reason beyond being a Skeleton now. Because _damn_ did he look fine in the traditional regalia.

Rare were the stares that were filled with hate. The change of a few decades was visible.

Perhaps it was his sons that elicited that change in them.

This caused him to smile.

* * *

Papyrus stood by the stage steps in his regalia - the ol’ orange with blue trim. He fussed with his brooch anxiously.

“Papy, is that you?”

Papyrus perked up at the familiar voice.

He turned toward Mettaton - and oh dear stars above in the skies and before his eyes.

The Android was wearing a white top with a high collar wrapped with a black ribbon, and his shoulders exposed, but there were still sleeves - puff sleeves that covered his elbows. He also had a full lace black skirt, mid-thigh length in the front and knee-length in the back. He had black fishnet stockings on with black heels with gold straps. He also had black gloves instead of his usual white. He also had on a wide-brimmed white hat with pink and orange roses on it - the only splash of color.

The area for a good few yards around was lit up a sunny orange.

Mettaton chuckled.

“I guess that means you like this getup, hm?” he teased, tracing a finger along Papyrus’ jawline.

The glow brightened, causing a few people to complain.

Mettaton giggled and just hugged Papyrus.

Papyrus hugged back. The orange light faded some, but not all the way.

“Are you excited?” Mettaton asked.

“IMMENSELY!” Papyrus piped. “THIS IS A VERY BIG DAY FOR YOU - AND ALL MONSTERKIND AS WELL!”

“I _know,_ it’s _such_ an honor to be chosen! It’s no _wonder_ they chose _me_ for it~”

“THAT IMPLIES THAT THEY WOULD CHOOSE ANYONE ELSE OVER THE AMAZING METTATON - A MOST UNLIKELY SCENARIO, IF NOT AN ALTOGETHER IMPOSSIBLE ONE!”

“Oh dear, you’re absolutely right - you are _so so so_ smart, Papy-dearest!”

“I KNOW! WE BOTH ARE - IT’S WHY WE WORK SO WELL TOGETHER, MY SHINING STAR!”

“Right yet again my darling one~”

Stagehands and backup dancers and earlybird audience members alike watched the blissfully happy couple as they fawned over each other. A few took photos of the sight. The vast majority were clearly happy for them. A few were indifferent. A small number were quite envious or jealous. The ones who were clearly a tad affronted by the display did the polite thing and simply turned their focus elsewhere.

But through it all, Papyrus and Mettaton were far too caught up in each other to give a damn.

* * *

If one were to drive past Mt. Ebott using the main road, they would be blocked with no choice but to turn back.

Not by any proper road blocks, no. By people. People waving signs with slurs and Bible verses on them. Wearing HWC t-shirts.

Most vehicles turned back, to the cheers of the crowd. One had the nerve to throw a half-eaten Big Mac at them before driving away. Nobody bothered to get the plate number because they were too busy screaming slurs and Bible verses at the vehicle.

But Craig was toward the back with Amber, Luther, and Luther’s wife Melissa, a blue-eyed platinum blonde. And all of them were quite confused.

“Why have none of the cars stopped to join us?” Melissa asked.

“I’m not sure,” Luther replied with uncertainty.

“That can’t be right, I sent a mass email to everyone who gets the monthly newsletter,” Amber protested. “I even expressly asked them to email back if they couldn’t make it!”

“How many of them did though?” Luther mumbled under his breath.

“Are you _implying_ something Luther?”

Craig facepalmed. “Luther, Amber, Melissa, we need a backup plan now. Amber, let’s look at the email you sent out.”

Amber took her tablet out of her purse and did so.

“See?!” She said. “Here’s the email, here’s the list of everyone I sent it to, here’s all the replies!”

Craig, Luther, and Melissa looked at the email. Everything was in working order. Perfectly worded, not a single spelling or grammar error to be found. It was successfully sent out, and the replies had been received.

But that just made everything even more confusing.

“Wait,” Luther said. “Why are so few cars coming through anyway?”

“Yeah, this is the main road to the National Park!” Melissa chimed. _“Everyone_ uses it!”

“Let’s go somewhere with better coverage so we can call the wireless company and see what’s really up here…” Luther suggested.

“But what about the protesters?!” Amber asked.

“They can handle themselves,” Craig dismissed. “Come on, let’s take my car. It’s faster.”

And so the four got into Craig’s BMW and drove off without the protesters noticing.

Suddenly, the protesters clamored to the sides of the road.

A motorcycle zoomed past.

Just as everyone started to block the road again, another motorcycle zoomed past, causing everyone to scatter again.

The protesters waited a few more minutes before going back again.

Another motorcycle came by. The protesters scrambled yet again.

Everyone seemed to be of one mind as they waited on the roadsides as the sound of roaring engines were heard.

As the sound become closer, the protesters charged into the road.

They swung their signs and various bags and purses - a few even swung camp chairs.

They swing at the passing vehicle, screaming in rage.

None shall pass.

Not even…

“OH MY GOD THAT’S THE CHAPTER PRESIDENT!”

With that one line the protesters scattered like bugs.

The few who stayed held their signs in self-defense.

The vehicle they’d surrounded was decidedly _not_ a motorcycle. It was a red Corvette with HWC and Chrtistian bumper stickers on it. It was also completely intact…for the most part. There were a number of scratches and dents in the chassis, and the rear window had a number of cracks.

The driver’s side door opened. Out came a man in his late 30’s with light brown hair and brown eyes, wearing a dark gray business suit. His expression was filled with rage.

One of the ones who stayed behind stepped forward.

“David Green,” the chapter president said through gritted teeth.

“Mr. Martin,” David replied with uncharacteristic courtesy.

“Do you mind telling me why you and these protesters just tried to destroy my car?”

David paused a moment to think of a good response.

“They were blocking the road to divert anyone going to the big Monster… _thing_ in the Mountain,” he explained slowly. “Then a bunch of motorcycles came by and they all ran to either side of the road so they wouldn’t get hit. When they got back in the road, _another_ bike came by, and then another! Then they heard another and got all ready to pounce and-and it wasn’t a motorcycle, it was _you,_ so uh -”

“Just stop talking,” Mr. Martin replied. “And tell everyone here to _go home_ before I _call my lawyer.”_

David suddenly seemed afraid.

“W-will do Mr. Martin, sir,” he managed.

Mr. Martin gave his car a once-over and clicked his tongue before getting back in and driving away.

His passenger side mirror fell off.

As the idiots - I mean _protesters_ watched the car drive away, one of them suddenly realized something.

“Hey! Why haven’t any Monsters come through here?!”

* * *

Sans slipped the second sleeve of his yellow-trimmed teal robe and clasped it closed with the Emerald Blaster Brooch.

He checked on the Heart.

Most forms of social media had managed to successfully spread the word that the HWC was planning to obstruct passage on the main route to Mt. Ebott. Those who knew alternate routes gave them. Other Barrierfall celebrations in other cities with large Monster populations received warnings as well.

The world was actually…coming together, in a way.

Sans sighed. With it, a weight seemed to be lifted from his chest.

He pocketed his phone and looked about.

…He never thought he’d see the day.

He’d seen many timelines with Humans and Monsters together, but never had the two species been in the Underground at the same time - at least not in these numbers.

Then he spotted Alphys and Undyne talking to a Human woman they seemed to know well - Alphys was in her navy blue dress with the white polkadots, and Undyne was in the leather jacket-blue jeans-red boots-red bandana combo. Little Mamoru was with them, and dressed fancier too - he was rockin’ that tiny tux and he _knew_ it.

Then Alphys spotted Sans.

She waved at him, then turned to Undyne and the woman to say a few words before rushing over to him.

She stopped, a teensy bit short of breath.

“H-hey Sans!” she greeted sunnily. “Good to see you!”

“back atcha al,” Sans replied with an easy grin.

Silence.

Sans suddenly felt…something.

He turned to Alphys, brow ridge quirked in question.

Alphys seemed to know what he was asking. She nodded, a smile on her face.

Sans returned the smile with one of his own.

“wanna know?” he asked.

“n-no thank you,” Alphys replied.

“‘kay.”

Silence.

“…so how’s the research stuff goin’?”

“O-oh, it’s going great! I-I’ve been working on how M-Magic interacts with organic compounds! T-turns out that in m-most cases it’s a bit like w-water and oil - they can be in the same place, but they can’t properly mix in the majority of circumstances. B-but that makes me wonder w-why Wizards have Magic despite seemingly being H-Human…it can’t be just the fact they’re descended from Monsters…”

Sans hummed. “that’s actually a good question. maybe dad would know…”

“H-he probably d-does,” Alphys admitted. “B-but at the same time, I want to find the answer on my own. This is my research. I’m not an assistant anymore…”

“neither of us are,” Sans pointed out. “i’m a professor, you’re a researcher…lot’s changed in nineteen years…”

“Yeah…makes you wonder about things…”

Sans glanced at Alphys.

Alphys glanced back.

For a brief moment, an unspoken understanding none could decipher passed between them.

They broke eye contact at the same time.

“So…only two more months,” Alphys noted.

“yep,” Sans sighed, a giddy smile on his face. “november 17th - peak viewing for the leonids.”

“I should have guessed you’d plan your wedding around a known astronomical event…”

“heheheh, yep. chara’s actually makin’ tori’s dress.”

“T-they are?!” Alphys gasped. “I-I didn’t know they did that sort of thing…”

“ya know that mr. dad guy sweater asgore has? they made it themself.”

“W-whoa…”

“yeah. azzy’s gonna be helping asgore with floral arrangements - and he’s the ringbearer.”

“I-is Frisk the Flowerfrisk again?”

“yep. chara’s helpin’ them this time.”

“I’m sure Frisk’s very happy about that…”

“like nothin’ else.”

Silence.

“i’m gonna go see if i can find tori,” Sans said. “congrats by the way.”

Alphys merely smiled and waved as he walked away.

* * *

Chara made their way through Waterfall, certain of exactly where they were going.

They knew the Underground like the back of their hand - they had to if they wanted to be a proper guide/narrator to Frisk on their journey.

But anyway.

They solved the bridge puzzle - the solution had been drilled into their memory after a few too many accidental dips in the water with Asriel - and a few too many scoldings from various aides and retainers. And random Monsters.

They passed that room and found the Wishing Room. The Echo Flowers glowed that familiar soft cyan they’d come to love so long ago.

Chara put their ear to the first Echo Flower.

“…I wish ohime-sama would live forever…”

They blinked.

They leaned into the flower and…

“Oh! Chara! There you are!”

They yelped and fell backward onto their rear.

They looked up at Zeke.

“Sorry Chara!” he said, reaching his hand out to help them up. “Are you alright? You are uninjured, I hope?”

Chara looked Zeke in the eyes and stood up on their own.

“I’m fine,” they said.

“That is good!” he replied, seeming genuinely happy to hear that.

He glanced about the Wishing Room.

“I have noticed that much of the flora in this portion of the Underground is coated with bioluminescence,” he said.

“It wasn’t always,” Chara said.

“It wasn’t?”

Zeke seemed intrigued by this.

“Nope,” Chara confirmed. “In the beginning, there was darkness. The only light came from Monsters - either Elementals made of substances that emitted light, or other Monsters that could somehow create their own. Waterfall was originally the darkest part of the Underground - still is actually. So at some point someone decided enough was enough and…well, look around. Light.”

Zeke did in fact look around, eyes sparkling.

“That is amazing!” he gasped in awe. “And you are amazing for knowing that!”

Chara blinked. They averted their gaze and scratched the back of their neck awkwardly.

“I mean…it’s really kinda common knowledge for former Underground residents,” Chara muttered.

“You used to live here?” Zeke asked.

Chara tensed a little.

“…Yeah,” they said. “It’s…a long story. Telling all of it would take up…way too much time.”

“How much time would it take?”

“Ya got a century to spare? That should be about enough time.”

Zeke paused.

“…It is impossible for your story to take up one hundred years,” he said.

“Well walking on the moon’s also supposed to be impossible,” Chara countered. “And yet it happened.”

Zeke just seemed confused.

“I am not sure how the Apollo 11 lunar landing mission is related to that fact that you seem convinced that -”

Chara just put a finger to Zeke’s lips to shush him.

“If I tell you the Wishing Room tradition, will you stop pestering me about my exaggeration?”

Zeke just blinked.

Chara rolled their eyes and removed their hand from his face.

“Well? Will you?”

“Okay!” Zeke chirped. Then his face fell slightly. “I was not aware that I was ‘pestering’ you Chara. I am sorry…”

Chara smiled and shook their head. “Don’t worry about it.”

They looked up at the cave ceiling. Yellow flecks of light floated above them.

They sat down on a soft patch of ground, leaning their back against the wall.

“Wanna sit down with me?” they asked.

Zeke smiled and nodded before sitting next to Chara, legs crossed and hands in his lap. He gazed at them, listening eagerly.

Chara blinked at him before turning away to face the Echo Flower.

“The room we’re in right now is called the Wishing Room,” they began. “The flowers around us are called Echo Flowers. If you whisper into the center of the bloom, it will repeat back to you what you just said.”

Zeke’s eyes were practically sparkling.

“The tradition goes something like this,” Chara continued. “If you have a wish, and wish it with all your SOUL, you whisper it into an Echo Flower. If you come back to it later and another wish is whispered over it, it’ll come true someday. If you come back and all you hear is white noise, it’s not gonna happen.”

Zeke silently pondered this.

“I would like to try this tradition,” he said.

“Okay then. Pick a flower, any flower.”

Zeke stood up and went to a nearby flower.

He whispered into it, listening for a bit before smiling and rushing back to Chara’s side.

“It worked!” Zeke said. “Now all I have to do is wait!”

“Yep,” Chara confirmed.

Silence.

Chara sighed and leaned back against the wall, humming an old tune they recalled from another time. One of cherries and birds and heartache and treasured memories.

They weren’t sure why they felt calm enough to sing. There was a _Human_ next to them.

It was probably just the Underground. This, as far as they were concerned, was their home.

The more they thought about it the more sense it seemed to make. For now that was all they needed.

Had they turned just a little to their left, they would have seen a pair of sparkling indigo eyes, carefully studying them with unbridled admiration.

* * *

Caroline wasn’t sure why Asgore had asked her to come with him. And now, seeing why, she regretted not asking first so she could staunchly decline his invitation.

She hated diplomacy.

Well, that wasn’t true. It had its uses, to be sure. There was just no chance in any of the nine circles of hell in either this dimension or any other that _Caroline Marlow_ was going to have any sort of direct involvement. Her preferred brand of honesty had no place in politics.

But as she followed Asgore and was introduced to the former denizens of The Underground as a Wizard, she felt something very strange welling up within her.

“Ah, Baron Centetl! How good to see you!” Asgore chimed.

Before Asgore and Caroline was a serpentine Monster with turquoise scales and red and green and gold feathers, and eyes of jasper with ivory pupils.

He smiled.

“Your Majesty,” he responded with a bow. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Caroline tensed. She could feel… _something._ But what, she couldn’t say.

“Baron Centetl, I would like you to meet Caroline Marlow,” Asgore said, gesturing to the girl. “She is a Wizard, with Electricity Magic! Miss Caroline, this is Baron Mecatl Tlahtoacoatl. His family was Nobility in the Underground.”

Mecatl gazed at Caroline, as if sizing her up - to eat? To kill? To make clothes?

“How do you do,” Caroline greeted, her calmness surprising her somewhat.

“Muy bien, Señorita Wizard,” Mecatl replied with a smile. “Y tu?”

“As can be expected for one being made to engage in socializing without any prior foreknowledge.”

The adults laughed at this.

Caroline didn’t see what was so funny.

But the more she focused on the strange _something_ she’d felt in the…air? No, it wasn’t in the air. It was… _between_ the air? Ugh. Whatever it was, she felt it and it made her slightly cold and a little nauseous.

She was barely paying attention to the adults as she focused on the…atmosphere? No, still wrong…

Aether. That was it. That felt right.

Focusing on the _something_ in the aether, she felt that _something_ grow stronger.

She broke her focus away by blinking furiously.

Asgore turned to her.

“Miss Caroline, are you alright?” he asked. “You look rather pale…”

“I’m always pale, Mr. Asgore,” Caroline pointed out. “I’m alright. Just trying to stay focused on my surroundings…”

“Very well then,” Asgore said, as if he either didn’t believe her or just was extremely wary. “You may take a rest for a moment, if you so wish.”

Caroline sighed with relief. _“Thank_ you…”

Asgore smiled as she ran off. Then he turned to Mecatl apologetically.

“She’s rather withdrawn by nature,” he said sheepishly. “Big events like this tire her…”

“That is fine, Your Majesty,” Mecatl replied, waving his tail in a dismissive gesture. “It was interesting to finally meet the fabled Wizard - is it true that she is the first in five centuries?”

“She is the figurehead, for certain,” Asgore replied. “Self-taught as well.”

“Self-taught you say…?”

“She’s a very intelligent young girl, if a bit eccentric.”

Mecatl hummed.

“I’ll be off now,” Asgore said. “The ceremony to begins in an hour.”

“Very well then,” Mecatl said.

And with that Asgore left.

Mecatl slithered away.

That Wizard girl was _more_ than “a bit” eccentric.

* * *

Eddie sat down at a picnic table across from Brooke, holding a drink in one hand - fruit punch, judging from the look of it - and a Cinnamon Bunny in the other. She was busy with a mandala.

He just watched her work.

No wonder she made these - just watching them being made was pretty hypnotizing.

Or maybe it was just her -

No. No thinking like that. Not yet. Wait.

**Patience** was the name of the game with her, and it wasn’t one Eddie was particularly good at.

…He spotted Brooke’s eyes in his peripheral vision. She had really long eyelashes. And really pretty eyes -

Augh! Clearly he was going to lose at **Patience**.

…But he was going to **Bravely** suck it up and move more slowly.

…Brooke’s pencil slipped off the edge of her notebook. She flinched a bit, then blinked her way back to earth.

She looked up at Eddie, then at the drinks he had with him.

“…Next time, you can just set ‘em next to me,” she said.

“Noted,” Eddie said with a nod. “…It really is amazing how you make those so easily.”

Brooke just shrugged. “It’s not that hard, really. I just put my pencil to the paper and my hand does the rest.”

“If I did that it would probably be a mess of zigzags,” Eddie chuckled. “Or dicks.”

“That does not surprise me at all,” Brooke said with a smirk.

“It would surprise absolutely no one.”

Brooke just rolled her eyes and gave the drink a cursory glance.

“What is this, anyway?” she asked.

“Fruit punch,” Eddie replied.

The unspoken “I think” was almost as loud as if he’d shouted it.

Brooke cautiously sipped it.

She decided it was okay to continue and took a few more.

“The snack’s called a Cinnamon Bunny,” Eddie said. “Think it’s a cinnamon roll shaped like a bunny…”

Brooke took a bite of the head.

She swallowed it.

“Tastes like it too,” she confirmed.

“Lemme try,” Eddie said.

“Go get your own - hey!”

Eddie snatched a chunk despite Brooke’s protests and popped it into his mouth.

Man, this was _good._

Brooke just narrowed her eyes at him.

Eddie just stared back, mouth full of Cinnabunny.

It turned into a weird sort of staring contest.

Eddie smirked and waggled his eyebrows.

Brooke just crossed her arms.

Eddie held up his hands in a gesture of surrender as he stood up.

“You win, you win,” he conceded. “I’m going, okay?”

“You realize I was teasing, right?” the girl countered.

He gawked at her for a moment as she took a chunk of the treat and ate it.

Eddie sat down and sighed. “And I thought Caroline was bad at teasing…actually she’s worse, she won’t tell you until she’s done completely trolling you to bits.”

Brooke hummed around the food in her mouth before swallowing.

“So how did you meet the Book Club anyway?” she asked. “I know you went to Mountainside, but is there more to it than that?”

“Yeah,” he said. “It was in fourth grade, yeah? Penelope got challenged to a fight by Miranda - lot of people joking that it was a love confession. But yeah, she blackmailed me and mi hermanos Bruce and Nicko into doing it for her. It failed when Penelope complimented Bruce’s tattoos. Then we met again when I was trying out for the Spring Concert and we been cool ever since!”

Brooke just stared at Eddie incredulously.

“Yeah, I was a real puta back in the day~” he sang.

Brooke was silent for a moment.

“Well, I guess we have that much in common,” she sighed.

“So uh, what made you cut Alicia off?” Eddie asked cautiously.

Brooke was quiet for a moment.

She took three deep breaths before finally speaking.

“It was…the last day of school,” she managed.

Eddie’s eyes widened.

“Yeah…she and Rachel were watching the newsfeed and…saying some really messed-up shit…about the Book Club…”

Silence.

“…You don’t have to keep going,” Eddie said. “I think I get it…”

“I got up and had to go to the bathroom to meditate. If I’d spent another minute with those two, I dunno if I’d have cried or snapped their necks. All I know is that it would _not_ have been a pretty sight…”

“Preaching to the choir there.”

Brooke huffed out a…well, not a laugh, but it vaguely resembled one in the way T-posing resembled the Crucifixion.

“But, yeah…since then, I’ve…done a lot of thinking,” Brooke admitted. “About what I’d been doing and why…how to not do that stuff…”

“Hey, you left ‘em when you’d had enough,” Eddie said. “Takes guts, ‘specially with those two.”

“Yeah, good luck finding someone who’ll do your homework for free _now,_ bitches.”

Eddie laughed at that.

* * *

Asriel had definitely noticed Frisk’s close proximity to their cell phone the majority of the time they’d been in the Underground. But he had the politeness not to ask.

At least not until they were alone.

And now they were.

“Uh, Frisk?” he began. “You’ve been playing with your phone a lot today.”

Frisk looked up from their phone with a smile and a teensy blush.

«That’s because I’m texting my girlfriend!» they signed.

Asriel blinked. “…You have a girlfriend?”

«Raina Ruiz asked me out at lunch!» Frisk explained. «We’re really just getting to know each other before we get serious.»

Asriel wasn’t sure what to say about that. All he could think of was…

“It’s not another thing like Marcus Hayes, is it?”

Frisk shook their head. «This isn’t pity Azzy! I actually want to see where this goes with her!»

“Okay, okay, geez!” Asriel said defensively, palms - paws? - raised in an expression of docility.

Frisk just stared at Asriel’s paws, eyes sparkling.

They booped one of his paw pads.

Asriel just stared at Frisk.

Frisk just booped his paw pads - boop boop bop the toe beans.

Asriel was just lost as hell.

Then he remembered…something.

_“Chara, what are you doing that?”_

_“Your paw pads are so cute. So squishable.”_

_“I don’t get it.”_

_“Then just accept it. You’re my cute baby brother.”_

_“I’m not a baby!”_

_“You are to me!”_

_“You sound like Mom when you say that!”_

_“Would my widdle baby bwuvvew wike some pie?”_

_“I don’t even know what you just said except that I know it was about pie!”_

…Was this just a thing with Red SOULs to like paw pads?

…No, of course not. Humans just had a weird thing about them. They even had a weird name.

Humans are weird.

* * *

As it had been for a century, nobody dared go to the Ruins. There was very little of interest there.

Which was exactly what made it perfect in the eyes of those who wanted to get away from the crowds for a bit.

Or just wanted to get away.

Either way, a pair of youths - a Human boy with curly dark brown hair, brown eyes, and deep beige skin with glasses, and a brown Crocodile Monster with green eyes and a yellow neckerchief - were wandering through the Ruins together.

“So this place was abandoned for a hundred years,” the Human mused. “Sure looks like it…”

“Eh, it wasn’t _totally_ abandoned,” the Croc clarified. “Apparently after the Prince and Prinx were killed and the King declared war, the Queen exiled herself here. She tried to keep those kids that fell down here safe, but you know…”

“Guessing people didn’t like the Queen?”

“Not until they learned the truth, and even then a few were all huffy.”

“She didn’t want war, and she would have been put to death if she said so, so she ran.”

“Actually, the Underground had no death penalty.”

“Oh, okay.”

Silence.

The pair paused.

The Human perked up and turned his head.

“You hear that?” he asked.

The Croc paused to listen.

He heard guitar music.

“…You gonna go -”

He spoke too late. The Human was off following the music.

The Croc sighed and followed suit.

A few wrong turns were taken - sound seems to travel a bit in this part of the Underground. It was a bit disorienting, to be certain.

Eventually they found the source of the sound.

A Human boy, dirty blonde hair to his shoulders and warm brown eyes, kinda grungy style, was sitting against a tree in the middle of a pile of red leaves. He had an acoustic guitar and no pick as he strummed away with his thumb and forefinger.

“Who said that every wish~ Would be heard and answered~ When wished on the morning star~ Somebody thought of that~ And someone believed it~ And look what it’s done so far~”

A few Whimsun and Froggit had gathered to listen.

The Croc looked to his companion. The Human was gawking with a blush on his face. The Croc elbowed him.

The Human jumped and yelped.

The Whimsun fled.

The Guitarist looked over at the pair.

“Didn't think anybody else was here,” he said.

The Human sputtered.

The Croc swatted him in exasperation.

“Sorry about that!” the Human said with a  confident smile, as if he hadn’t been a pile of anxiety seconds earlier. “Talon’s the name, Talon Perry. This cool Croc here is my pal Gustave.”

Gustave waved.

The Guitarist blushed a little.

“Uh, Donovan,” he said. “Donovan Schmidt. Donny’s fine though.”

“Donny! That’s a cute name!” Talon said. “You’ve got a way with that guitar!”

“Uh, thanks,” Donny managed.

Silence.

A bell rang - like a church bell, if a church bell was pure of heart and made of Magic.

The Foggits fled.

“Ceremony’s starting,” Gustave said. “Let’s go.”

Talon turned to Donny.

“Goina join us?” Talon asked.

Donny seemed to be thinking.

Then he smiled.

“Sure! Why not?”

* * *

All gathered.

Humans. Monsters. Young. Old. Rich. Poor. Weak. Strong.

Everyone from all walks of life.

All gathered this day for one purpose.

A celebration of freedom.

In New Home, garlands of Golden Flowers and tapestries of gold and lilac brocade with the Delta Rune on them draped the exterior of the Royal Palace.

A hush fell over the crowd like a curtain opens on a stage.

Something that filled one to the brim with anticipation.

The Asgore walked onto the balcony, wearing his crown and a royal purple cape with gold pauldron and gorget adorning it. In hand was his Red Trident.

Once again, he was King of All Monsters.

Silence pervaded the cavern.

Asgore stepped to the railing of the balcony.

And spoke.

“Monsters. Humans. Wizards. People of all ages and walks of life. Welcome, one and all. Five hundred years ago, Monsters were banished here. Wizards were no more, as Magic had been sealed away with Monsters. Humans lost something as well. They lost a connection to the world around them.”

Silence.

“One hundred years ago…we found hope once more…and lost it, just as quickly.”

Silence.

“Five years ago…we’d found hope again…but even that scant hope was fast fading.”

Silence.

“But no more. No more shall hope be all that sustains us. For now, we walk free. We experience the light of the sun, and moon, and stars. We experience the world in time with Humanity, as we did so long ago. There are those who wish to destroy that once again…but more…so, so many more…wish to see us prosper alongside Humanity. All of you here today…we share the same hopes and dreams…of unity and togetherness, in the name of the sun, the moon, and the stars above! These five years have seen trials and tribulations, as well as transitions and triumphs! My hope - my dream - is that Monsters and Humans can continue to reach for the stars together! Long may our two worlds be as one!”

When he finished, he raised his Trident to the sky.

The crowd below erupted in cheers and applause.

Asgore nearly shed a tear.

How long had it been since the cheers were so loud…?

It mattered not, he realized now.

For in this moment, all the world was as one.

He could feel it run through his body like blood through a Human’s.

He spotted a familiar face in the crowd - one he’ come to know well, and come to love so deeply he didn’t believe he would stop.

He waved.

Shelby waved back.

* * *

Misty fluffed out the black organza of her dress and brushed debris off her black tights and adjusting her black pointe shoes for a final time. Her sleeves were long and flowing, her skirt trailing behind her while being knee-length in front.

Reggie adjusted the ruffles of his poet shirt and fidgeted with the pompom baubles on his vest.

“Are ya ready to _rock,_ Diggy?” Misty asked with a fanged grin.

Reggie nodded, adjusting his gorgeous man-bun.

And with that Misty dragged him onto the darkened stage and positioned them on a prop wooden chair.

The curtains rose. The spotlights shone. The music struck. The dancers posed.

The dance was on.

It was a dramatic mix - lyrical, jazz, ballet, salsa…and a hint of, inexplicably, figure skating.

But all in all it was a damned fine performance for a divorced couple with a child.

They could hear a few audience members singing along - they’d made a good choice it seemed.

“You can go your own way~ Go your own way~ You can call it anoooother lonely day~”

When the song faded out, so did the lights - but the dance continued until the curtain fell and the audience applauded.

Reggie and Misty left the stage, slightly out of breath but no worse for wear.

They discreetly joined the audience for the next act…

* * *

Mettaton put on his best-known getup - sparkly metallic pink chassis and black shoulderpads, black lycra leggings, sparkly metallic pink platform stiletto boots, white gloves, and his Signature™ black matte lipstick, dramatic winged cat eyeliner, sparkly pink eyeshadow, and sparkly mascara.

He stood on that stage, the lights dead, curtains drawn, facing the crowd, head down, microphone in hand.

He could feel the energy of the crowd rolling on the aether, filling his very being with that sense of belonging that only fame could give him.

He heard the curtains open.

The sound of the spotlight lighting up, the feel of it heating him from all over.

He instinctively flipped his head back, facing the sky.

He rolled his head until he was facing the crowd, opening his magenta eyes and smiling sultrily.

His lifted the mic.

“Helloooooo, beauties and gentlebeauties~” he sang, confidence bursting through like sunrays. “Are you ready to _get GLAMOROUS~?”_

The cheers were ecstatic. The number was maybe half a stadium’s worth of fans, but the enthusiasm was worth five sold-out shows at Madison Square Garden.

“Alright then darlings! Let’s get this show _started!”_

The music started.

Mettaton moved his hips to the beat.

He owned the song - a cover by his personal idol.

“I’ve fallen in looove~ I’ve fallen in love for the first time and this time I know it’s for reeeeal~ God knows~ God knows I’ve fallen in loooooove~”

The white spotlight warmed him from without, but the orange glow in the audience warmed him from within - and more thoroughly too.

Mettaton had been _attracted_ to many people in the past, but he’d never been _in love_ until Papyrus.

He’d thought about that many times before, but it would never, _ever_ cease to amaze him.

As the song ended, Mettaton posed dramatically.

And the crowd goes _wild._

But there were still seven more songs in the set.

He was filled with almost as much anticipation as the crowd before him.

* * *

Caroline, Chara, Frisk, and Asriel were seated at a table in the Castle’s dining area.

Caroline absentmindedly munched on a dinner roll as Frisk signed ecstatically about their “sorta-kinda girlfriend”.

Chara also seemed rather distracted, nibbling on a bite of salad.

Asriel was just eating as much as his little heart desired. Boy loved food it seemed.

Caroline glanced at Chara. They glanced back.

“So you came back with that Zeke kid,” Caroline noted.

“So?” Chara asked, suspicious.

Caroline just shrugged. “Just curious.”

Chara narrowed their eyes.

“You are _so_ lucky Frisk isn’t paying attention…”

“Yes you are.”

“Touché.”

“Hello, pardon me for a moment?”

Asriel, Chara, and Caroline glanced up at the source of the new voice. Chara nudged Frisk with an elbow to get their attention focused in the same place.

The speaker was a Human woman with dark skin, black hair in a sleek bob cut with a single pink streak, and light brown eyes. She had on a dress shirt with a navy blazer, pink tie, and a navy pencil skirt with black heels.

Frisk’s blush was plain to see. Chara nudged them again, this time giving them a pointed glare.

“May we help you?” Caroline asked.

“Allow me to introduce myself,” the woman said. “My name’s Serena Washington. I’m a field reporter with the Channel 6 news. I was wondering if we could get an interview with you?”

The kids paused. Then they glanced at each other, then back to Serena.

“I think I have a few questions first,” Caroline said. “For example, will we be having individual interviews or would it be as a group?”

“Hmmm…I think that can be left up to you,” Serena replied with a warm smile. “Will you need a moment to decide?”

“Not too long, I should think,” Chara said with an easy, regal politeness.

“Alright then. I’ll be off to the side, just let me know when you’ve made a decision!”

“Okay.”

Serena walked off, leaving the kids be for a moment.

“So let’s weigh the pros and cons first,” Caroline said. “Pros, we get promote Magic rights on a greater scale while pissing off assholes. Cons, we’ll be _even more_ bombarded by people than usual.”

“I mean, I think the promotion of Magic rights is enough on its own, but add in the fact that it’ll piss people off and I’m sold,” Chara said.

“Can we still have dessert?” Asriel asked.

«I can’t see why we wouldn’t!» Frisk signed.

“Good, because they had buttspie!” Asriel sighed with relief. “It won’t be as good as Mom’s, but…”

_“Nothing_ is as good as Mom’s pie Azzy,” Chara pointed out. “So I guess this means we have our answer.”

Frisk gave a thumbs up in agreement.

“Okay then,” Caroline said. “Let’s go. Text Toriel first to let her know.”

* * *

Alicia put on the gold under eye mask and placed the cucumber slices over her eyes, already feeling relaxed as her charcoal avocado face mask did its work.

She turned on the television as she sipped her sparkling kombucha, hoping her favorite candidate in The Bachelor was going to make it to the next round.

“…And now we’re going out to the field with Serena Washington! Serena, how are we doing over there?”

“Well Keisha, I’m down here today with Monster Ambassador Frisk Dreemurr and their siblings, Prince Asriel and Prinx Chara, along with Wizard Caroline Marlow!”

Alicia spit out her kombucha, the action causing the cucumbers to fall gracelessly off her face. **“WHAT?!!??!”**

Alicia watched the giant screen TV, eyes wide with rage.

Serena was standing with Frisk, Chara, Asriel, and Caroline, the four youths looking as professional as could be.

“Tell me, what does the Barrierfall represent to you guys?”

Chara was the first to speak.

“Actually Ms. Serena, we discussed this in class one day last week. Everyone had different, yet very similar views on the subject. But most everyone agreed that it represents hopes and dreams.”

“I can see why! So how have your lives changed since Barrierfall?”

“Well, there are many different bureaucracies, most of which are designed to make our lives harder.”

Laughter.

Asriel spoke next.

“Well, I uh…finally know what the sun feels like. It’s…warm. Like a hug from the universe.”

Frisk was next. Chara translated their signs for them, but there were also subtitles on the screen.

«I have a family who loves me. Aunts, uncles, a mom, a dad, and the two best siblings ever,»

Serena was clearly trying not to squeal at the cuteness.

Caroline spoke last.

“Well…when the Barrier fell, I uh…was in a bad place in my life. I wound up moving to Ebott when my father remarried. I met Frisk and their family, and made friends. And…I found my Magic.”

Caroline made a little sparrow out of lightning for the camera, and unmade it just as quickly.

She had a small smile.

Serena was clearly very excited.

“Well, it seems that today is a very special one for everyone! Thank you all so much for your time! Keisha and Kent, back to you!”

Alicia threw the remote at the television with a loud screech. The screen cracked.

She was filled with rage.

She didn’t even notice that one of the cucumber slices was stuck to her cheek.

* * *

Schwartz stared at his tablet screen, enraged.

He was dangerously close to having had enough.

But not yet. He still had to wait.

It was all part of the plan.

Besides, he couldn’t just call for favors willy-nilly.

But he could gather resources to prepare for it.

He picked up his phone.

“Angie, schedule a charity gala for New Year’s Eve.”

* * *

Kristina sat with Reggie and Misty, Nicko sitting calmly at her side.

“Soooo,” Misty began in a teasing tone, “how long you two been a thing~?”

“Mamaaaaa!” Kristina whined with a blush. “W-we’re just f-f-friends!”

Nicko nodded in agreement.

“That’s what I _meant_ by ‘thing’, Tina Mae,” Misty said with a smirk. “What were _you_ thinking?”

Kristina blushed.

Nicko sighed.

“We’ve been friends since last year,” he managed, voice a bit rough. “Met in maths.”

“Uh, don’t you mean math?” Reggie asked.

“I’m British,” Nicko replied, as though that was the best way to explain everything.

“Oh? British?”

“Born in Manchester.”

“What’s it like there?”

Reggie was clearly excited by this prospect.

“…I moved here when I was seven. Can’t remember much ‘fore then.”

Reggie’s ears drooped in mild disappointment.

Kristina’s face flushed in embarrassment.

Her mother embarrassed on purpose. Her father…didn’t even have to try.

But she’d picked up on something.

“…Are you okay Nicko?” she asked. “Your voice sounds a bit rough…”

Nicko sighed.

“Throat starting to ache a bit,” he admitted.

“Do you need water or something? I’m sure we can get you some honey tea…”

Nicko shook his head. “Learned signs to cope.”

Kristina just smiled and nodded in understanding.

Misty leaned into Reggie and spoke quietly to avoid being overheard.

“Am I the only one who thought it was just puberty?”

“MAMA!”

* * *

Frisk was seated between Chara and Asriel at the dining table. Sans and Toriel sat next to each other on Chara’s other side, Papyrus and Mettaton next to them, Gaster by them, Alphys and Undyne by him, and Asgore between them and Asriel. Mamoru was in a high chair between his godfathers.

Everyone’s focus was on Undyne and Alphys.

“Soooo, you said you had an announcement to make~?” Mettaton urged excitedly.

Alphys and Undyne glanced at each other, trying so hard not to scream that they made strange high-pitched sounds that wound up causing Yasmin to whine and Isolde to yeet herself out the open window.

“I’m pregnant!” Alphys burst.

Silence.

Then enthusiastic cheers.

* * *

Penelope was carrying a sleeping Caroline home princess-style, walking astride Theo as she did so. It was quite an interesting sight to see, especially due to the height difference between the carrier and the being-carried.

All was silent.

Theo looked up at the sky. The streetlights blocked the stars completely. Or was it because they were all in his blind spot? He couldn’t tell anymore.

Penelope noticed.

“You okay Theo?” she asked, her voice quiet so as not to rouse Caroline.

Theo sighed.

“I don’t get it,” he admitted. “After everything I’ve said and done, I’m not only in your weirdo club, but I’m a _bouncer._ What the hell is _wrong_ with you people?”

Silence.

“…Because you know you messed up,” Penelope said finally. “You’ve admitted it, and you’re trying to get better. You actually _are_ better now than you were this time last year.”

“How the hell would _you_ know?”

“Because why else would you have helped us out during…the shooting? Why else would you have…have jumped in front of…of _him_ to protect me?”

Theo was silent.

“You _are_ better Theo,” Penelope said quietly. “And everyone can see that. What they - and you - don’t get is how we can forgive you after everything.”

Silence.

“…We’re almost at her house. I’m sure Mrs. Sharona will have some snacks or something waiting…”

Silence.

“…She and Mr. Randy helped Mom a lot during the whole thingy last year.”

“If I wasn’t such a -”

“Theo, no. You didn’t see anything wrong because you didn’t experience it until it was too late. I may have gotten beat up by him a lot, and I may have gone to the hospital that one time, but I didn’t lose an eye.”

“I deserved to.”

“You did not!”

Silence.

Penelope glanced down at Caroline. She was still out cold.

Penelope sighed.

“You didn’t deserve to lose your eye,” she said quietly. “Not for that…not for anything…you…I…”

She sobbed.

“I’m sorry…”

Theo just stared at Penelope.

“The hell are _you_ apologizing for?” he asked.

Penelope sniffled and shrugged. “I dunno…I just…felt like I had to…”

Theo just stared at her.

“O-oh, we’re here,” Penelope announced. She looked down at the sleeping Caroline with a smile. “Heehee, she’s had a really long day today…no wonder she’s still out…”

Theo noticed the hint of red his sister's cheeks. How her smile was a little more…real? No, it was always real. Right now it was just…different.

“You like her don’t you,” he stated rather than asked. “And I mean like-like.”

Penelope’s blushed intensified. She let out a squeak.

She only lowered her head and nodded in response.

Theo said nothing more, just putting a hand on Penelope’s head in sympathy.

* * *

After the rest of the family left for the night, Chara and Toriel were alone in the guest bedroom while Frisk, Asriel and Sans cleaned up the mess - well, while Frisk and Asriel watched Sans use his Magic to clean up the mess.

Either way.

“…What is it Chara?” Toriel asked, a touch anxious.

Chara just sat up straight and tall.

They smiled as they got up and walked to the closet…

…and took out a long, gorgeous dress.

It was an off-shoulder ball gown-style affair, made of mauve tulle and cream-colored lace applique.

Toriel gasped and covered her mouth, cinnamon eyes wide and shining.

“But wait, there’s more!” Chara added, affecting the air of an infomercial announcer.

They went back toward the closet and took out a veil that reached just past the waistline of the dress - the unused lace had been used to make it.

By this point Toriel was in tears.

“I know you wanted cream lace, but lace on its own…well, _things_ will be seen, so I put it over some mauve tulle - white’s _so_ overdone, and I think this color goes well with your eyes anyway. Also, there was some lace left over when I was done, so I used it to make a -”

Toriel took Chara in her arms, holding them close and sobbing.

“It’s beautiful…” she choked. “Thank you my child…”

Chara said nothing and hugged their mother.

* * *

It was past midnight.

The Underground was finally empty, save for him.

He waded through the shallow pools, dodging debris new and old.

He stopped.

Three long, sharp stones acted as fingers to untie a piece of string around a rusted piece of metal.

He read it.

He tossed the paper into the water and set to work once more.

* * *

Toriel glanced at the digital clock on her bedside, squinting a little without her readers.

“It’s after midnight,” she said quietly. “We should be getting to bed…”

“wait,” Sans said. “one thing first.”

“Sans, really now -”

“tori, just trust me on this. close your eyes.”

“I thought you wanted me to stay awake.”

“heheh, nice. but really.”

Toriel sighed and did so.

“Alright. My eyes are closed.”

“good. just hold on a sec…”

Toriel heard some shuffling sounds for a moment. Then she felt Sans’ weight shift as he moved.

She felt something on her neck…?

“okay, open your eyes.”

Toriel opened her eyes. Sans was using his Magic to hold up a hand mirror.

She was wearing a necklace - a simple gold chain with a pendant in the shape of a purple aster flower.

Sans was behind her, hugging her and looking at her reflection.

“not being underground is nice ‘n all, but…”

Then he turned her face toward him and kissed her.

When the kiss was released, he was smiling warmly at her.

“…happy birthday tori.”

Toriel smiled and pulled Sans in for an even deeper kiss - one that lasted all night long.

The happy tears just kept on flowing.

* * *

_Knowing that the future will continue to be filled with days like this one fills you with_

_D E T E R M I N A T I O N_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wind Of Change - Scorpions  
> Rainbow Connection - The Muppets  
> Go Your Own Way - Fleetwood Mac  
> I Want To Break Free - Queen


	14. Rainy Day People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jokes, feminism, and lots of gay.
> 
> The usual really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh

_9:43 A.M., September 18th, 20XS_

 

_It’s a dreary day outside._

_Rain is falling._

_Classes are boring._

_On days like this, kids like you…_

 

_…are actually less bored than you would expect._

* * *

Chara was exceptionally grateful to have tested well enough to be enrolled in the same second-period class as Frisk.

Honors U.S. History, thy name is Chara Dreemurr.

They were almost done with the Chapter 3 test. Just two more questions to go.

They finished five minutes before class ended, Frisk finishing not long after.

«So which question was hardest for you?» they asked their older sibling.

«Six,» Chara replied.

«Number twelve had _math_ in it,» Frisk signed with a grimace. «This is _history!»_

«Just like this test is to us,» Chara signed with a smirk.

«This is history class Chara,» Frisk signed, a confused expression on their face. «What else would it be?»

Chara just stared at Frisk with mild disappointment.

Then the bell rang.

* * *

Svea sat down in front of her boss and gave him a thick sheaf of papers.

“The monthly reports, Mr. Martin,” she said cooly.

Mr. Martin took them and flipped through them before placing them in his inbox.

“Very well, I’ll email you the goal for next month by the third of next month,” he said.

“I’ll get to work on it.”

“Ms. Holgersson, why don’t you go on home for the weekend?” Mr. Martin suggested in a tone of voice that clearly intended it as a request.

“Because I have work to do,” Svea replied as if she hadn’t noticed the implications.

“And you’ve done it well, I assure you - you always do. But you have a family at home that’s surely waiting for you.”

“They can wait a while longer,” Svea dismissed. “My daughter’s on the cheerleading squad this year - she’s well occupied in my absence.”

“And your husband? Who cooks for him?”

“He does it himself, Mr. Martin. He’s not an idiot.”

Mr. Martin tilted his head, but said nothing.

“Will that be all, sir?” Svea asked.

“…Of course Ms. Holgersson. Just remember that your position allows you to work from home as needed.”

“I assure that it won’t be needed.”

“…If you say so. You’re dismissed.”

Svea nodded curtly before leaving the office.

She got back to work the second she sat down, not even pausing as she asked Eleanor to get her her hourly coffee.

* * *

Mettaton finished tying Papyrus’ tie.

“Of _course_ you’d want this job Papy,” he said with a fond smile. “You get to help people _and_ look fabulous doing it!”

“I STILL DON’T KNOW WHY UNDYNE THOUGHT I WAS TRYING TO GET A JOB AS A CHARACTER ACTOR FOR DISNEYLAND!” Papyrus griped. “WE’RE IN NEW ENGLAND!”

“The way you phrased it, Papy.”

“BUT MAKING PEOPLE HAPPY WHILE SWEATING FURIOUSLY CAN MEAN A VARIETY OF THINGS! WHY DID HER MIND JUMP TO DISNEYLAND?!”

“Be glad Sugar Skull. She could have jumped it to male stripper.”

“THE ONLY PERSON I WOULD DO THAT FOR IS YOU! AND THE PAYOFF IS YOUR DAZZLING SMILE!”

“And so much more besides~”

Mettaton gave Papyrus a quick kiss.

“Good luck Sugar Skull~” he said sweetly. “Not that you need it~”

“THE SENTIMENT REMAINS AND IS GREATLY APPRECIATED MY SHINING STAR!” Papyrus replied, nuzzling Mettaton.

And with that final display of affection, Papyrus was on his way.

* * *

“So those dancers were your parents?”

“Mm-hmm!”

“…You sure they’re divorced?”

“Brian, oh my god.”

The Book Club members were gathered around their usual table. Brian, Kristina, Ridley, Elaina, and Penelope were having their own conversation.

“S-so they’re dancers?” Elaina asked.

“Well, my mom’s a dance _teacher,”_ Kristina explained, “but my dad’s a news columnist.”

“Woooow,” Penelope said, green eyes sparkling with mild amazement.

“So why did they divorce anyway?” Brian asked.

“Oh my god Brian, you don’t just ask someone why their parents are divorced!” Ridley snapped.

“Oh, d-don’t worry about it!” Kristina assured. “It’s because my dad’s gay and my mom didn’t want to hold him back.”

Silence.

“Oh! No wonder they’re still close!” Penelope said. “I was kind of afraid it was like with…”

“Oh! N-no, it’s not…”

Silence.

Really though, how does a conversation recover from someone almost mentioning domestic violence?

“C-can I meet them?” Elaina asked.

Apparently that’s how.

“Oh, sure!” Kristina said cheerfully. “I stay with my dad on weekends, so it’ll have to be after school on a weekday!”

“O-okay!”

Elaina seemed very excited.

“Oh yeah, Elaina, what pronouns are you today?” Ridley asked.

Elaina shrugged. They/them today it seemed.

“Oh, okay then!”

“So why aren’t you and Caroline together yet Penelope?” Ridley asked.

“Hey! Why can you ask Penelope why she’s not dating yet but I can't ask Tina why her parents aren’t together?” Brian griped.

“Because fuck you I guess?”

“Um…I-I’m waiting for Caroline to say something first…” Penelope admitted. “If she wants something, she’ll say so. That’s how she works!”

Penelope smiled at the thought of her crush.

Everyone at the table stared at Penelope.

There was a silent agreement amongst them all that love made idiots out of everyone.

Especially smart people.

* * *

Caroline, Trav, Brooke had fifth period French class together. They tended to keep to themselves for the most part, only interacting with others on an as-needed basis

And considering the amount of bad blood between the three, seeing them together was kind of an event.

But considering Book Club’s growing reputation as a place for people to be who they are without reprimand, it wasn’t as surprising as it would have been before summer vacation.

Nonetheless, the unlikely trio drew a few stares.

Even though they were assigned to work together on this project.

Which was to last the whole semester.

“So we’re doing a display board about a French-speaking country,” Caroline explained. “Question is which one.”

“You say that like I have a choice,” Trav snarked.

“You do, actually,” Caroline replied as if Trav didn’t just sass her. “We’ll be doing our report on any country that isn’t France or Canada - those two will be overdone anyway.”

“I thought we were being given a choice here!”

“You are.”

“Bitch where?”

Brooke just silently held up the list of approved countries to do reports on.

Caroline gestured to the paper.

Trav flipped them off.

“So we have until Monday to choose,” Brooke explained, reading from the handout. “Mr. Klein’s being reeeal generous here.”

“So let’s start a list of ones we like,” Caroline says. “From there we can narrow down our choices.”

“I like this one,” Brooke said, pointing at a powder blue flag with a yellow star on the upper left corner and a red bar running diagonally through it.

“The Democratic Republic of the Congo,” Caroline mused. “From what I know any country with the words ‘Democratic Republic’ in its name is actually a totalitarian regime where everyone but the president and high-ranking government officials are oppressed.”

Silence.

“…Yeah, I like it because the flag’s blue,” Brooke deadpanned.

“Why not Madagascar?” Trav said. “There was a movie about that, right?”

“That’s true,” Caroline said. “Plus the endemic wildlife there is very widely known…”

Silence.

“You are going to let is to some of the work, right?” Trav asked.

“Yeah,” Caroline said.

“Okay, just checking.”

“So DR Congo and Madagascar…what else can we do?” Brooke asked. “Ooh, the flag of Luxembourg looks pretty…ooh, and Haiti…”

“Switzerland,” Caroline offered. “They have mountains.”

“I still want Madagascar,” Trav said.

“Monaco’s cool,” Caroline offered. “One of the smallest countries in the world while being one of the richest.”

“Whoa, the Seychelles flag looks cool!”

“Hey, it does.”

“Hm. Pretty cool.”

The three didn’t seem to care that people were staring.

* * *

Jayme and Audrey stood opposite each other.

The music started.

And so did they.

Left, right, change, twirl, dip -

Audrey hit her head on the floor soon as Jayme dipped her.

Misty blew her whistle and stopped the music.

Jayme pulled Audrey up, a panicked look on her face.

“O-oh my god, a-are you okay?!” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Audrey groaned in response, rubbing the back of her head.

“Yeah, maybe _you_ should be the dipper Audrey,” Misty said. “You are about a head taller…”

“Okay then…”

“Okay you two, let’s take it from the top, shall we? Five, six, seven, eight!”

The music started again.

Left right, change twirl, dip.

As Audrey dipped Jayme, their eyes met. Brown on blue-green.

Audrey flushed.

Her arm slackened slightly. She would have dropped Jayme had she not managed to switch arms and take the chance to twirl the other girl around to readjust the balance.

Misty watched.

She knew those two had chemistry - both on and off the dance floor.

They were just proving her right at this point.

But how far did that chemistry go, she wondered…

Well, she had a while to find out!

And watching as those two gaze into each others’ eyes as they danced?

It was tempting to start up a betting pool, but also boring since she’d be the only one in on it.

So for now, Misty would sit back and watch the show.

* * *

He could see it.

This is what he’d been searching for.

He could not read the carvings - he doubted anyone could. But it was of no consequence at this point in time.

Progress is progress, however slow it may be. It can move at a glacier’s pace, or quick as lightning. But progress is progress.

Nil removed more and more debris from the site.

Hours passed.

Soon what he sought was in sight.

The carvings were graceful. Curves and arcs spreading outward from a vertical line, the pattern suggesting it was a script of some kind - what it said was a mystery.

There was the faintest shimmer of Magic in the divots. This was to be expected, the Underground having been host to Monsters for five centuries. Magic was everywhere down here, even five years after it was released back into the world.

As soon as all the debris was cleared and the entirety of the markings were visible, the Magical sheen was just the slightest bit brighter. The etchings were clearer for it.

Nil gazed at it.

He could not understand the script. Nor could he recognize it.

But he knew someone who very well might.

And so the fang trudged through the waters, back to its roots.

* * *

If one had eyes to see, they’d see a passing blur. A streak of white and gold passing by them, an unspoken mission underway.

If one had ears to hear, they’d hear a rush of wind. A pounding on the earth, not heard since the days of myth.

If one had a mouth to speak, they'd speak words of confusion. Because god dammit, no way in hell this was possible.

…But many had noticed the mysterious growth of iris flowers where none were ever planted.

* * *

Becky entered her room. She couldn’t see Hamish.

She would have sighed with relief if she knew that’s what she was feeling. But as it was she just sat at her desk and began to do her homework.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Susan was making Becky a snack. Donny hadn’t come home yet, to her relief.

Then she heard a crash. She flinched.

She turned to the source of the noise.

The curio cabinet.

Inside, a pink porcelain carnation had been shattered.

Sudan stared at it for a moment in shock. How - how did this happen? She’d just gotten through polishing it, and it was perfectly fine. So how?

Donny wasn’t around to take the blame. Becky was perfect - she’d never do something like this. Bob was at work.

But she knew it wasn’t her.

…Was it?

No, impossible. She knew to be careful with her figurines.

But she could not deny that the carnation had shattered, and it had done it with no warning, not a soul nearby.

She screamed in fear.

…Becky heard it and went to hide under the covers.

She was filled with…something she wasn’t sure what it was.

She didn’t like it. That’s all she knew.

* * *

Chara, Asriel, and Frisk had chosen to walk home, taking the long way there since the rain had let up and the sun had come out. The usual way was by bus. The usual walking way was by sidewalk.

The route they were taking went further south toward the Bayshore neighborhood of Ebott - the boardwalk was in this part of town, along with much of the beach. But the Dreemurr children were really just passing the time away wandering.

“I can’t believe how many of these places are even still _standing,”_ Chara marveled. “You’d think a hurricane woulda rolled through or something…”

«So how old _is_ the boardwalk anyway?» Frisk asked, face alight with awe.

“It was built in 1893,” Chara recounted.

“Whoa,” Asriel breathed. “That’s like, uh…old…”

“Mom and Dad are like eight times that age or something,” Chara dismissed. “And Eurasian culture gives you higher standards of old.”

Asriel and Frisk stared at Chara.

Chara stopped.

“Well it’s true!” they defended. “Contemporary American culture is new compared to -”

“I don’t even know what it is you’re saying!” Asriel despaired dramatically.

“But we’re in politics, Azzy,” Chara said. “We should at least be familiar with this stuff.”

«You’re talking like Caroline, Chara,» Frisk signed.

“I’m talking like I know a little of what I’m talking about,” Chara countered. “I _was_ a -”

Chara looked around, as if they were being watched.

“…a Breedlove,” they said, loud enough that only their siblings could hear. “Whenever Hiram was hosting events at the Manor, my Human brother, Will, and I were expected to sit there silently like good little status symbols. I ended up listening to everything he said. When he left parties to do something, I used the opportunity to practice my own rhetorical skills.”

Asriel blinked. “Back…in the Underground, when big formal parties were held…that’s where you learned it…?”

Chara nodded.

Asriel suddenly looked a little…guilty.

Chara had looked slightly guilty the whole time they’d been speaking, though their smile still stayed on.

Frisk looked between them, confused and more than a little worried.

Then they got a text.

_ *1 text from: Raina*  _

_Raina.txt: Hey frisk! Where are you?_

_Frisk.txt: at the boardwalk with my siblings! ^v^_

_Raina.txt: Cool! I’m just chilling with my brothers. Nothing better to do._

_Frisk.txt: we can text eachother! would you like that?_

_Raina.txt: Sure!_

And so Frisk started texting Raina as they walked. Chara noticed this and sighed and they took hold of their younger sibling’s hood to keep them from absentmindedly straying too far.

Then they spotted Asriel as he stared at the food stalls.

They grabbed one of his ears, causing him to give a startled bleat.

“We don’t have money on us, Az,” they scolded gently. “We can have stuff at home.”

“Awwww, but Charaaaaa!”

“No buts Azzy.”

“Lame…”

“Yes you are.”

“Hey!”

Frisk would have snickered if they weren’t so engrossed in texting their girlfriend.

Then their eyes widened.

Test…history…

How could they have missed that joke?

They were fulled with shame.

* * *

Bruce, Eddie, and Nicko were at Nicko’s house playing video games. This was the default option really - Bruce and his older sister’s single mom worked full time so they couldn’t afford any consoles, and Eddie had at least two random family members in his house at any given time with maybe an 85% chance of him even knowing who the hell they even were. Nicko’s family was relatively tame in comparison.

So yeah. The three were playing Smash Ultimate.

Eddie’s Bayonetta was owning all of them. Nicko’s Link was putting up a pretty good fight as well. Bruce’s Mario was…not really doing as well as a Mario could be. Then again Bruce wasn’t exactly a fighter - he fit a support role better. Free-for-alls just weren’t his scene.

After Link won his second match - out of ten played overall - the lads decided to get some snacks.

As Nicko put some chicken nuggets in the microwave, he looked at Eddie questioningly - the other boy was texting someone.

Eddie looked up. He waggled his eyebrows.

Nicko just continued to glare.

“…I’m texting Brooke,” Eddie announced, like it was something of utmost importance.

“She’s not responding though,” Bruce noted. “If she had we’d’ve heard - you never keep your phone on silent.”

“Hey mang, she will! Just gotta give her a bit -”

*Des~ Pa~ Cito~*

“And behold amigos! La princesa responds!”

Eddie checked the phone.

_ *1 text from: Princesa*  _

_Brooke.txt: Cheer practice is two hours. You have sent me FOUR HOURS’ WORTH OF TEXTS._

_Brooke.txt: Dumbass._

_Eddie.txt: pero you replied so~_

_Brooke.txt: To tell you that if you’re going to send me texts, we have to make a schedule._

_Eddie.txt: lol queeeee_

_Brooke.txt: It’s only fair. We can meet tomorrow to discuss it. I’ll send details when I get home._

_Brooke.txt: And if your dumb ass makes one comment about this being a date I will feed you your own eyeballs._

Eddie winced a little. Nicko and Bruce did as well - they’d been reading over Eddie’s shoulder. He did the same to them, so really it was only fair.

_Eddie.txt: …you terrify me_

_Eddie.txt: pero ok then_

_Brooke.txt: Good._

And with that it seemed to be over for the time being.

Silence.

“…I got a date.”

Nicko dopeslapped Eddie at this.

* * *

Caroline looked through the notes she’d taken.

Since she’d begun practicing Magic, all notes from lessons she’d taken from Toriel and Gaster were carefully jotted down in her notebook. General history of Magic and Wizards, techniques for enhanced precision or range of Magic, practical uses…

She turned to a page she’d become familiar with, the tab she’d opted to use colored red with a doodle of a simple black heart.

_The Red SOUL, one whose Trait is_ **_DETERMINATION_ ** _, is one of great significance. The Red SOUL is unique among others in its rarity - only one can be alive at any given time. The bearers all mysteriously share the same common traits - born on the day of the spring equinox, dying in the last days of summer or the first of fall, dying a martyr’s death before the age of 40, hair in length from the tips of the ears at the shortest to the shoulders at the longest, and - most significantly - distinctive ruby red eyes. Albino eyes aren’t red, but pinkish with red pupils. The eyes of those with the Red SOUL are truly red - the irises are ruby red, with black pupils. Red SOUL Bearers also are the only Human SOULs to bear Magic at birth, as opposed to Wizards who acquire it through death. What this Magic is seems to be random with each Red SOUL._

Caroline added onto the section.

_ Another aspect of the Red SOUL is its ability to withstand direct attacks - it can resist shattering for as long as is needed. This is known as refusing, as in refusing to die. However, this can only occur during an Encounter. Outside of an encounter the Red SOUL can die as any non-Magical Human.  _

Caroline checked the addition for any spelling or grammatical errors - on funding none, she put the notebook away and sighed as she fell back onto her bed.

Revisions had to be made - Chara’s re-existence changed that.

But with two Red SOUL Bearers alive at the same time…what was going to change? Would more Red SOULs be born? Would they lose their Magic?

And then there were other questions too - what determined the Magic of a Red SOUL? And was Red SOUL Magic different from that of other Wizards? If so, how?

Caroline groaned - she couldn’t come to a conclusion now - not on her own, and not without the right resources.

She turned to a different page in the notebook - marked with a plain purple tab - and began writing.

It was still in the outline stage, but her spy thriller was coming along swimmingly.

The female lead definitely needed green eyes…and the male lead would have black hair and a scar of some kind…

Yeah…this was working out great…

* * *

Chara awoke to the sound of roaring thunder and crashing waves.

It was pure black. A strong rocking sensation could be felt.

Then a man entered the room, soaking wet and scruffy as could be, eyes full of fear.

“There ya rats are! Haul yer asses on up, it’s all hands on deck!”

Chara shot up at this, a sharp thrill just shy of fear coursing through them. William was clearly more afraid than they.

Chara took his hand and dragged him after them man.

“Come on Will! They need our help!” they said.

“I’m coming!”

When they were finally out of the darkness, they beheld another sight.

The deck of a ship. Wind whipping hard enough to sting. Rain falling so heavy one was practically blinded. The only light to see by coming from brief bolts of white lightning on the wine dark sea.

Chara and William glanced at each other and set to work, the only thing keeping them from slipping in their bare feet was the roughshod wood of the deck.

Pulling ropes, pushing crates and barrels, moving water from the deck, keeping their eyes peeled for any sign of the end of the hurricane.

“I see sunlight Cap’n! Forty nautical miles north! She’s currently sailing at fifty knots, so we’ll be out of the storm soon!”

“Ya hear that?!”

“Aye aye sir!”

The Captain, a man of around 50 with a strong build and wild hair the color of granite and eyes like the clearest sky, went to Chara and William.

“You rats can halt for now. Ye’ve done well.”

Chara and William smiled at The Captain and each other.

Chara ran to the very tip of the bow, crawling out and clinging to the figurehead.

The wind in their hair, the sea salt on their skin…

They never wanted to go back home.

They wanted this.

This freedom.

Maman only stayed with him for the sake of them and their brother. With them gone she was free at last.

It was better this way.

“LAND HO!”

Chara crawled back onto the deck.

They had to do their part. Earn their keep.

One of the crewmen tousled their hair, to their amusement.

As the boat sailed along the shore, a familiar structure came into view.

An old lighthouse of red-painted wood. A white wooden building with a wooden balcony jutting out over the dunes.

Chara’s thrill was replaced with fear.

They turned to their brother.

He felt the same.

…

And then they woke up.

And remembered something.

They wanted to go to the beach.

* * *

_Memories being recalled fills you with_

_D E T E R M I N A T I O N_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rainy Day People - Gordon Lightfoot  
> Despacito - Luis Fonsi feat. Daddy Yankee


	15. Home By The Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An adventure is had. Angst and foreshadowing abounds. Glimpses are seen.
> 
> A lot’s changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning! This chapter contains blood, vomit, self harm, mild eye horror, and references to the Star Wars prequels. Viewer discretion is advised.

_ 10:43 A.M., September 19th, 20XS _

 

_ It’s a cloudy day outside. _

_ Puddles are stagnant. _

_ The air is hot and muggy. _

_ On days like this, kids like you… _

 

_ …are going to the beach. _

* * *

“…and remember, don’t wander  _ too _ far! If something happens, call me or Sans!”

“Yes ma’am!”

Chara, Frisk, and Asriel saluted Toriel. Toriel gave them each a kiss on the cheek before settling down on a beach blanket.

Asriel and Frisk turned to Chara expectantly.

“So what were you gonna show us, huh Chara?” Asriel asked.

Frisk nodded emphatically in agreement.

Chara put a finger to their lips and smiled.

“Why don’tcha follow me and find out?” they asked.

“Because Mom said don’t wander too far.”

“…Shut the hell your mouth.”

«Just tell us where we’re going Chara,» Frisk signed.

Chara shook their head. “Just follow me, please?”

Chara had a look in their ruby eyes that was…almost pleading.

Frisk and Asriel glanced from Chara to each other.

They sighed and followed their older sibling.

* * *

Eddie waited at the corner where Brooke had asked him to.

He was tempted to text her asking where she was but decided against it - chances are she was at gymnastics.

But it was three minutes til 11, and she did say she’d be here by then - she had to be! She wasn’t Kayleigh Bender!

“Hey.”

Eddie looked up from his phone.

Brooke was there - she had jeans on over her sleeveless blue leotard with simple white tennis shoes.

“We ready?” she asked.

“Yep!” Eddie replied, popping the P at the end. “Lead the way princesa!”

Brooke rolled her eyes and walked onward. Eddie followed.

They ended up stopping at a little cafe to eat lunch over their discussion.

“So…” Eddie started, “text schedule?”

“Yeah,” Brooke said. “We can wait for food or start now.”

“Food sounds good.”

“Okay.”

When their food came, they began to talk.

“So,” Brooke began, “what do you do when you’re not at school?”

“Well, I pick up my kid siblings from kindergarten on Wednesdays,” he said. “Book Club…”

“Tuesday right after school unless something comes up,” Brooke finished. “That’s common knowledge - Book Club’s actually more popular than some of the jocks.”

“…I have baseball practice Sunday afternoons from three to six,” he said. “And I have church Sunday mornings. So Sundays I’m booked.”

“Okay,” Brooke said, typing something into her phone. “I have cheer practice Friday after school from 3:30 to 5:30. I do gymnastics whenever I feel like it, but Wednesdays and Saturdays two to four I work with my coach. Ballet is every Monday from four to six.”

Eddie nodded along.

Brooke stared at him for a bit.

She leaned across the table.

And flicked Eddie’s forehead.

Eddie yelped and rubbed the spot.

“Were you listening?”

“Si! Si! I was!”

“Then what did I say?”

The look in her ocean blue eyes was challenging him.

His brain turned to mush for a moment.

Then he proved that he could in fact listen.

“You have cheer Fridays after school, gymnastics Wednesdays and Saturdays and whenever, and Ballet on Mondays.”

Brooke blinked. She seemed a little…surprised.

“…Okay then,” she said. “That means we got our schedule.”

“Okay, but will you tell me when you go to gymnastics on not-Saturdays or Wednesdays?” he asked.

“Will you promise not to show up unannounced?”

“That mean I can show up if I tell you I am?”

Eddie smirked and waggled his eyebrows.

Brooke crossed her arms and glared at him, unimpressed.

“…I’ll ask first?”

Brooke kept glaring.

Eddie’s face started to hurt from sustaining his smirk. This was getting very awkward very fast.

Brooke sighed and rolled her eyes.

“As long as you only come when I say you can,” she said. “The showing up at random…”

She looked uncomfortable at the memory.

Eddie suddenly felt guilt. Shame was as foreign to him as two-thirds of the shit said in math class, but he grasped guilt well enough.

And regret.

“Yeah, I…I was an idiot,” he admitted.

“And you apologized and haven’t done it since. Which is cool of you.”

Eddie smiled - it amazed him how easily it came. It wasn’t a smirk, or a confident grin. It was…warmer? It  _ felt _ warmer somehow.

Brooke just stared for a bit before taking a drink of her cider.

“…Perhaps I shouldn’t compliment you, your ego’s already about to burst.”

Eddie laughed.

* * *

Courtney rang the doorbell of the Holmquist residence.

Demi’s mother answered.

Courtney saw her expression tighten.

“Courtney,” she said tersely. “Demi isn’t home right now.”

“Oh, okay!” Courtney said, feeling the hollowness behind the blinding brightness of her tone. “When she gets back can you tell her Courtney Day stopped by to say hello?”

“We’ll see.”

And the woman closed the door - no goodbye, just shy of an outright slam.

Courtney fought down the urge to scream. She craved the attention, how could she not? Without it she was nothing.

Wait. No. That was wrong. She just  _ felt like _ nothing. Dr. Bradley made sure to point out the difference - Megan “helped” in her own special way by pointing out that taking it out on others would leave Courtney forever alone and dead of a drug overdose in a dumpster by 23. Their mother had scolded her for it, but Courtney knew deep down that Megan had a point. Megan  _ was _ the smarter of the Day sisters, since she refused to accept that she was the “favorite” or the “pretty one”.

Courtney settled for growling and walking away in a huff.

She had better things to do than waste her time on so-called friends.

…But then again, she’d only met Demi once, when they’d been assigned to work together on a science project in sixth grade.

The more Courtney tried to look inside herself, the less she really found. The realization…felt off. Like when she wasn‘t the center of attention, only…worse. At least when she wasn’t the center of attention she actually  _ felt  _ something. When she tried to visualize herself, there was nothing. Static, some searing heat blistering her back like she was lying on a giant frying pan, a strange pain in her legs that made her knees buckle in on themselves. But that was a small thing in a sea of static.

Courtney leaned against a telephone pole as her legs turned to jelly. She tried not to throw up.

And failed.

* * *

Shinju stared at the engravings on the wall. Nil stood by, unmoving.

“…I don’t understand, what is this?” she asked, slightly irritable. “You drag me from my afternoon tea…to  _ stare at a wall? _ Really, Diaspro?”

“You have knowledge of dead scripts,” Nil said evenly. “Are you able to translate this?”

Shinju rolled the hem of her kimono past her knees and walked closer.

The Magic gave the etchings a faint glowing outline.

She squinted at the writing.

“…I don’t even know what this  _ is,” _ she admitted. “It looks like no script I’ve seen before. Perhaps you should seek another - weren’t you friends with Dr. Gaster? Perhaps he could assist you.”

Silence.

“…Well, I must be returning to my  _ rudely interrupted _ afternoon tea now,” Shinju said. “I’m not sure what happened between you and Dr. Gaster, but you’re both old as hell. No telling when age is going to catch up to that old bag of bones, either. You’d best mend those burned bridges before that day comes.”

“If you are quite finished pestering me, Lady Murakami, do you not have tea going cold?”

Shinju rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I love you too, Dia~”

She kissed Nil on the cheek before prancing away.

Nil stood there.

“…I have told her not to call me that.”

* * *

Levi stared ahead into nothingness.

So still one would think he’d crumble if forced to move.

Caroline sat next to him in the backseat of Sharona’s Mazda, reading a book despite the chances of motion sickness.

“Wanna go to Tevye’s?” Sharona asked.

“Sure,” Caroline said. “Chicken soup sounds good.”

“Levi? You wanna go to Tevye’s honey?”

Levi said nothing. Only stared.

“…Okay, you can stay in the car while your sister and I eat schnitzel and buy lamb chops.”

Levi didn’t even blink.

Caroline waved a hand in front of her brother’s face.

Nothing.

She snapped her fingers.

Nothing.

She snapped her fingers and used her Magic to amplify the sound.

Levi yelped.

Sharona  _ slammed _ on the brakes.

She turned to the backseat, breathing heavily, eyes wide.

“Caroline Violet Marlow,  _ no _ Magic in the car while I am driving!” she snapped.

Caroline shrunk in on herself, grabbing at her left shoulder. “Sorry…”

Sharona blinked and sighed. “And you Levi, braces aren’t that bad -”

“I CAN’T EAT OREOOOOOS!” he despaired.

Sharona sighed wearily and started driving again.

Sometimes her kids reeeeeally got on her nerves.

* * *

Chara led their younger siblings north along the shoreline.

They paused at a familiar sight.

They pointed to it.

“You guys see where I’m pointing? That’s called Makwa Head.”

Asriel was practically gasping for breath as he collapsed by Chara’s side.

“Are we…th-there yet…?” he wheezed.

“Almost,” Chara said. “Just beyond that cliff is where we wanna be.”

«It’s shaped like a bear!» Frisk signed in amazement.

“That’s how it got its name -  _ makwa _ is Algonkin for bear.”

“How…are you two not…suffering…?” Asriel asked.

“We literally walked two miles Azzy,” Chara pointed out.

“SAND IS EVIL!”

“Whatever Azzykins Skywalker. Now let’s go!”

Chara marched onward.

Frisk kindly offered Asriel their shoulder to lean on for support.

“The prequels suck…” Asriel pouted.

Frisk merely nodded solemnly in agreement as they followed Chara another mile and a half.

When they passed Makwa Head, the group came upon a field of dunes.

But there was something else there too.

A building. Whitewashed wood, three stories, a widow’s walk standing high above them. It wasn’t in bad shape by any means, but it certainly had seen better days.

Chara stared at it as one would stare into a vast canyon.

Asriel and Frisk stared at Chara.

“Chara…?” Asriel managed.

“…Wanna go in?” Chara asked, turning to their siblings with a glint in their ruby eyes that suggested that it was not a question.

Frisk and Asriel were now very concerned.

And very scared.

* * *

Gaster and Lorenzo sat in the cafe, Gaster sipping black tea, Lorenzo sipping coffee with half-and-half.

“Well Dr. Gaster,” Lorenzo began, “since we’ll be working together closely, we should know minor personal details about each other, like family, non-scientific interests, other such things.

Gaster smiled.

“Well, I have two grown sons,” he said. “Sans is a physics professor at Ebott University, he’s 32 and engaged to be married. Papyrus is 25, he’s waiting to hear back from a job interview, in a happy healthy relationship. I also have…well, I can’t say for certain if she sees me as such, but I also have what I would consider an adoptive daughter - Alphys Styracorr, a biologist, married with a young son and another child on the way. Sans’s fiancee has three children in the seventh grade, whom I love as my own grandchildren. And when I’m not performing scientific endeavors, I am spending time with my family, tinkering with every little thing, reading a book, or perusing the internet.”

“Ah, interesting,” Lorenzo said, his facial expression indicating that he was in fact genuinely interested. “I have a son in seventh grade myself. He was homeschooled until this year - he was quite insistent, and provided a very well thought out argument! My non-science hobbies are sketching, solving Rubik’s cubes, and reading when I have time.”

“Ah! I see! Papyrus loves Rubik’s cubes - any puzzle really, he’ll even make one when he’s bored! He even helped design some of the puzzles in the CORE - he wasn’t even five…”

“My boy loves to help out at the labs - I feel he’s got a bright future ahead of him.”

“Sans and Alphys were the same - they graduated from high school by age nine, and had multiple doctorates by fifteen! He and Alphys were my assistants before…my accident…”

“Ah.”

Silence.

“So what school does your son go to?” Gaster asked.

“North Middle School.”

“Ah! Same as my grandchildren! Perhaps they have classes together?”

“Maybe. He’s in three honors courses, and he has computer science for one of his electives -”

“Ah! My grandchildren have that class!”

“So Zeke might know them!”

Gaster blinked. “Zeke…? Has he mentioned a Chara, Frisk, or Asriel?”

“All of them, but Chara’s the one he’s spoken of most.”

Gaster was glad for his locked jaw or it would have cartoonishly fallen to the floor right now.

“Chara…?” Gaster mused. “Of the three of them, Chara? They’re the  _ least _ trusting of their siblings.”

“Really?”

“They haven’t had an easy life - I won’t go into details, but I will say that their distrust is understandable…”

“Don’t worry, I won’t pry. But Zeke speaks quite highly of Chara.”

“If more got to know them, they would do the same.”

…The two men didn’t talk of work that day.

* * *

Miranda finished scraping Diamonds’ hooves and stood up. She went to grab a brush, only to find that her grooming kit was missing.

She groaned. She knew exactly who did it and what it would take to get it back.

She even had the kit tote personalized for this exact reason.

She went up to a groundskeeper and cleared her throat to get her attention.

“Yeah, hi, can you help me out? Cheyenne Shepherd borrowed my grooming kit without asking me, do you think you could check her locker for it please? It’s magenta with my name on it in black cursive. Miranda Mosely if you don’t know who I am.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” the groundskeeper said with a tense smile before walking away.

Miranda went back to Diamonds and began combing her silvery-black mane with her fingers. She felt some of her stress melt away.

She cautiously reached into her pocket and took out her phone to listen to music.

She turned on her wireless headphones and went to…

…

She paused, finger hovering over the playlist.

Did she really…?

She thought of the songs on it.

Heavy drums. Harsh singing. Guitar nothing like what she’d listened to in her whole life.

A strange thrill pulsing beneath it all.

…Yes. She really.

She tapped her father’s playlist and heard the music ram through her instead of swirl around her.

She  _ felt _ this music. She’d heard people say music spoke to them, but she’d never understood it until that moment.

She spotted Emma riding Rootbeer from the corner of her eye, the girl’s blonde waves bouncing behind her.

Miranda couldn’t look away.

Worse still, she found she didn’t want to.

…It was familiar.

It hurt.

Bad.

And it scared her.

* * *

Mama Tlālli Most High slithered through Hotland, into Waterfall, pausing as she swam through the dump.

There was a piece of paper tied to a rusted metal pole with vermillion twine.

She slipped her tail beneath the twine and took the paper.

She read the note and sighed.

She swallowed it and went onward.

She paused at the carvings.

She stared at it.

She smiled.

But naught could be done just yet. This color wasn’t ready.

* * *

Frisk and Asriel kept a step or two behind Chara as they made their way to the old building. They ascended the steps and stopped at the door.

They turned to their siblings.

“…You two don’t have to do this you know,” they said quietly.

Frisk shook their head. «We do too! You wanted to do this, so we’re gonna do this!»

Asriel nodded in agreement despite the fear in his eyes.

Chara stared at them.

“You don’t have to feel obligated to do this,” they said. “You can stay outside and wait for me if you want.”

“We’re not doing this because we’re oblivi…ogle…whatever you just said!” Asriel insisted. “We’re here because we’re worried about you! You’ve been acting weird the last few days!”

Chara froze. Their expression seemed to…sharpen.

“What do you mean,  _ weird?” _ they asked tersely.

Asriel whimpered and hid behind Frisk.

Frisk looked up at Chara.

«Chara, you’ve been quieter than usual!» they signed. «You’ve been smiling less and getting distracted! Something’s wrong and I want to know what it is!»

Chara just stared at Frisk and Asriel.

For a moment, Frisk’s pupils seemed to…flash.

Chara sighed.

“I’ll tell you when I come back from this,” they said. “Just stay here if you’re so desperate to not join me that you’ll feed me crap!”

Frisk gasped. Their expression was pained. Tears welled up in their eyes.

Chara noticed.

And ran into the building.

“Chara, no! Wait!” Asriel cried.

But he was too late.

He started to sniffle.

Then he was just sobbing.

Frisk held Asriel close and sobbed as well.

Something was wrong. This wasn’t like Chara.

Was it…?

* * *

Chara slammed the door behind them, relatively certain the aging wood cracked when they did.

They fought down screams of anger.

Why was it so hard for those two to tell them the truth?! If they didn’t want to they could have just said so!

Chara waited until the sobbing sounds outside the building abated before looking around.

The main room was more of a pub than anything else - a bar, still decently stocked with old brews and vintages that were just as likely to still be good as they were to have gone bad nearly a century ago. The tables and chairs were made of hickory wood, and a glass oil lamp was on each of the tables.

And everything was coated in layer after layer of dust.

Chara could see dust flecks floating in the light coming through cracks in the walls.

They remembered this place.

Old sailors and fishermen - as well as the occasional poet or artist - came to this inn to while away the hours before departing to their next destination.

This was also a favorite haunt of their mother. She would often speak to the innkeeper’s wife - Chara vaguely recalled a blurry memory of them speaking French between each other and smiling. They also recalled themself and William sitting at the table in the southeast corner, listening to the tales of through-passing travellers and the innkeeper’s father’s Civil War stories.

For a brief happy moment, all was calm. A moment of peace in a hectic time, glimpsed once more.

Then with a blink it was gone once more.

Chara blew their bangs from their face and shook their head before deciding to explore.

The layout hadn’t changed in over a century. The staircase was still next to the bar, ceiling low enough that Papyrus would need to bow his head to pass, passage narrow enough Mettaton’s shoulder pads would scrape deep gouges in the walls.

Chara put a hand to the wall for support, staring at the steps as they ascended.

There was lots of mold. A few animal droppings. A rusty nail or two just waiting to give tetanus to an unsuspecting explorer.

The steps creaked loudly. Odds are someone outside could hear it if they were listening for it.

After a moment, Chara reached the top of the stairs. The second story.

A few doors leading to rooms lined the walls. The floorboards creaked underfoot with each step taken.

…Chara stopped walking.

They could hear something.

They followed the sound.

* * *

Esme Cunningham-Chapman was rather the resentful type. She resented a lot of people, places, and things.

Right now she resented her idiot stepmother for forcing her to drag her idiot halfbrother - whom she also resented - along for what she  _ knew _ was supposed to be Esme’s personal day.

Seriously, Ethan was supposed to be able to take care of himself - he was  _ thirteen _ for pete’s sake.  _ Why _ was she forced to drag  _ him _ along? His presence was a total boy deterrent - how was she supposed to get a boyfriend with her kid halfbrother riding her through town?

At least he was quiet. The  _ one _ good thing about that idiot.

Esme sipped her bubble tea and texted Allison as she walked down the sidewalk.

She noticed Ethan staring at something.

She tried not to give a damn, but curiosity won out. Always did in the face if prospective gossip.

She looked where he was staring.

She recognized Brooke walking alongside the one Book Clubber she’d taken to talking to in the halls.

She saw the blush on Ethan’s face.

Oh my god it was so obvious.

…Esme immediately started thinking of ways to turn this in her own favor.

* * *

The TV screen showed a slightly different news setup today. With Keisha Noble was man with thick, dark hair and a thick mustache. Like Geraldo Rivera’s mustache and Tom Selleck’s mustache made love to create a new, mightier mustache.

“Good afternoon Ebott, I’m Juan Ortega.”

“And I’m Keisha Noble. Police recently found another body in the woods by Mt. Ebott - confirmed to be the work of the Miskatonic Killer.”

“The body of 16-year-old Aurora Lowe of Arkham was found mutilated in the woods on the eastern side of Mt. Ebott. The manner of mutilation as well as the disposal site are all part of the Miskatonic Killer’s MO. Miss Lowe has been missing since July of this year after she didn’t return home from a fight with her boyfriend Michael Haney.”

“Mr. Haney was considered a prime suspect in Miss Lowe’s disappearance for a while, and the discovery of her body has disproved that. More information will be reported as it becomes available. If you have any information, call the number on the screen. The number is also available on the KWRP website, as well as the MSPD webpage.”

“In other news, spontaneous iris flowers have been blooming where none have been planted in southwestern Pennsylvania! This continues the mysterious iris superbloom reported nationwide for the last month.”

“Many think it might be Magic - and Monsters and Wizards seem to be confirming the notion. Many people of Magic, as they are being called, report feeling a sense of hope in the presence of the blooms.”

“Well, Keisha, they  _ are _ really pretty - seriously, look how  _ purple _ they are, like wow!”

“I  _ know, _ I can’t wait for them to reach Ebott!”

“Well, maybe Sara Singh-Smith can tell us if the weather this week will be great for viewing the blooms! Sara, how’s that weather?”

Caroline finished editing her notes on the news as she bit into her leftover schnitzel.

A serial killer. Something to study more.

She sent a text to Brooke and Trav asking if they’d been looking into what they wanted to do for their French project.

Brooke was probably out doing something, Trav was likely to be doing nothing. Caroline didn’t quite  _ know _ either of them, but she came to a conclusion based on prior experience. She’d simply wait for them to respond while she read in her room.

She reminded herself to look for books on serial killers at the library or bookstore next time she was out.

* * *

Chara continued to follow the sound. The closer they got, the clearer it became.

It was a song. A lullaby.

Their mother’s lullaby.

Constance…their mother…Toriel…what…?

Chara shook their head free of the sudden fog that overtook it and kept walking.

The song grew louder. It was coming from a piano…above them.

Chara looked about.

They’d rarely snuck about this floor, but they had a feeling they knew where to go.

After a bit more walking down the corridors Chara reached just what they’d hoped to find - a stairwell.

They stared a single step ahead as they climbed, wary of nails and mold and droppings.

After a bit they reached the top of the stairwell…which ended in a door.

They jiggled the knob. Locked.

Chara groaned to themself. There were a couple of feet between the door and the stairs.

They considered their options. They could turn back and face their siblings’ tears. Or they could ram the door in with their shoulder and risk splinters or some other minor injury.

After a bit of thinking they made their choice.

_ INVENTORY>BOX A>KNIFE _

They studied the keyhole briefly before taking the blade and jamming it inside, wiggling it about.

The distinct sound of an unlocking door - and the knowledge that they could still pick locks with knives after a hundred years - filled them with  **DETERMINATION** .

They touched the yellow SAVE star that formed at their side before cautiously opening the door.

* * *

Frisk gasped and clutched their chest.

“Frisk!” Asriel cried, grabbing his sibling’s shoulders.

The tears on the younger Dreemurr siblings’ faces had dried up long ago. They felt no better, but had run out of tears to cry. All they could do was wait until they stopped hearing the floorboards creak within the inn.

After a bit of breathing heavily, Frisk’s expression changed.

They turned to Asriel.

Wait. No.

Rowan turned to Asriel.

“…Frisk’s alright,” he said. “Scared. They…felt Prinx Chara use SAVE.”

Asriel’s eyes widened.

“S…SAVE? But…doesn’t that usually only come up before like…big stuff?” he asked.

“…Frisk says that’s how it was back in the Underground,” Rowan said. “But this ain’t that, wee laird. I can't say fer certain that this is the real world neither. But it ain’t the Underground, and it ain’t 15th-century Edinburgh. Lot’s changed. Maybe this is one of ‘em. Maybe I’m thinkin’ awfy much on it.”

Asriel paused at this.

“…Does this mean we shouldn’t tell mom?”

“I think that would just pure upset the’ wee bairn further.”

“Oh…true. So…how’s Gail?”

* * *

“…and that’s how I met - and slept with - Doris Day!”

Frisk’s eyes sparkled brightly.

“Yeah, it was a long time ago. She was a sweetheart~ But…”

Frisk tilted their head.

“…Oh, I’ll tell you another time. So what do you wanna do for the school musical?”

Frisk’s body drooped in disappointment. Seriously, whatever Gail had to say was  _ clearly _ juicy!

“Uh, hello? Frisky? School musical plans?”

Frisk blinked back to earth. They just shrugged and shook their head.

“Well do you have any stage experience?”

Frisk thought. Then they remembered.

«For the spring concerts I signed for the hard of hearing!» they recalled. «You remember the last one, right?»

“Not really, I think I fell asleep rather than listen to an army of pubescent children fail to sing.”

Frisk giggled and shook their head. They honestly couldn’t remember the sixth grade spring concert either. 

«If I can do the same for the school musical, you can be my eyes! I can be the hands since I’m better at signing!»

“Hey, you can’t even - oh,  _ signing. _ I thought it said - ugh.”

Frisk was confused for a moment before realizing that a text box appeared above Gail’s head when she talked.

They’d forgotten that was a thing here.

* * *

Chara cautiously - slowly - opened the door. When it was open wide enough, they poked their head through the door and scanned the room.

They slowly entered, the door creaking open.

They crept across the floor.

The music didn’t cease, even as the floorboards creaked and groaned underfoot.

Chara reached the middle of the room and looked about.

Trunks. Crates. Boxes. Layers on layers of dust caking them all. The sunlight gleaming through the windows showed dust specks floating all around. Below the east window stood an upright piano of cherry wood.

Chara paused at the sight of something poking out from a trunk in the northwest corner.

They crept over to it.

Yellow silk with Battenberg lace trim.

They leaned to the ground lightly touched it.

It was still as sleek and soft as it must have been a century ago.

Chara smiled.

Then the music stopped.

_ “Qui est là?” _

Chara gasped at the voice - it held a hollow echo like they spoke inside an empty cathedral, but still they recognized it.

Chara turned around to face the innkeeper’s wife.

* * *

Hunter read the Book Club’s book for the month - Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

She could hear Linda downstairs talking - very loudly - to Mrs. Moss from her church group - one of those types that was super nice but super Jesus-y at the same time.

Hunter read until she finished the chapter. She put in a bookmark and laid back on her bed. She casually scratched her chin.

…She felt the worst thing possible.

She held back screams.

Only to start sobbing silently. She’d learned to be good at that - with a mother like Linda Thompson nee Murphy you  _ have _ to, and quickly. If not you’re as good as…

Hunter carefully took out her tablet and started writing in the notes app.

Then she realized something.

…Linda could easily read all of these.

She carefully tapped into the settings.

…She changed it so her notes could only be seen on her tablet. And that they’re password protected.

With that a small weight left her.

But the weight on her jaw remained.

She clawed at it until it bled.

She ran to her closet and closed the door before typing into her tablet.

_ Sep 19 20XS _

_ facial hair _

_ wanna die _

She closed out of the app.

A bit of blood was smeared on the screen.

Hunter heard Linda laughing downstairs.

It took too much effort to believe it wasn’t at her expense.

She kept clawing at her jaw until she was sure there was no more hair.

* * *

Sans sat in the waiting room of the motorcycle repair shop and checked Tumblr on his laptop.

Nothing good. Alphys reblogging gifsets of the new Fruits Basket episode and reacting with kaomojis is always good for a bit before it gets old.

He closed out of the page and put away his laptop, opting to nap until further notice.

“Oye! Sans! Got it ready for ya!”

Aaaand nevermind.

He hopped up and walked over to Carmen for his keys.

“So any idea who mighta ripped off your gas cap?” Carmen asked.

“only one and it’s also the least likely,” Sans sighed. “tell me carms - would a statistics professor be able to rip off a motorcycle part barehanded or otherwise?”

“No, but I bet with that kinda money he could pay someone to.”

“if it helps he has a kid same age as ours on the west middle soccer team.”

“The words ‘ours’ tells me it’s Eddie, and west middle tells me he can afford to hire a hitman to snipe your bike.”

“or he could tell his kid to do it.”

“Yeesh, good point.”

Sans pocketed his keys and swiped his card.

“you or joaquin gonna make it to the next pta meeting?” he asked.

“I might, Joaquin’s working,” Carmen said with a shrug.

“alrighty. see ya round carmen.”

“Adios Sans, tell Toriel I said hey!”

“will do.”

Sans went to get his bike. Gave it a onceover, put the key in the ignition.

Awww yeah.

Sans wasn’t big on driving care - he could in extreme circumstances, but he much preferred riding his motorcycle. He liked to feel the wind blow through his bones and joints.

…He wondered what Toriel would say to a nude motorcycle ride on their honeymoon.

* * *

Chara stared at the innkeeper’s wife.

She wore a day dress of yellow silk with a hem of Battenberg lace. Her rich hair was piled atop her head, her eyes reflecting the view from the east window behind her.

The innkeeper's wife stared back with those impossible eyes reflecting the scene behind her.

_ “…Miss Charity…?” _

Chara shook their head.

“It’s Chara,” they said. “Just…just Chara. It’s…been a long time Madame Northway.”

Madame Northway mere smiled and shook her head.  _ “I will not ask how you are still living.” _

“I don’t know either Madame. But…I have a family now. A happy, better one. We’re happy. But…”

Madame Northway simply stared at Chara, unblinking.

“…Can you not stare at me like that?”

_ “What do you mean?” _

Chara just stared in exasperation.

_ “I do apologize, but could you please not gawk?” _

Chara growled in frustration.

They decided to just turn away from Madame Northway as they spoke.

“…I love my family. The Dreemurrs are more of a family to me than the Breedloves ever were or could be…I just wish there was a way to have brought Will with me…that’s my only regret…”

_ “…That is not completely true?” _

Chara groaned.

“Look old lady, I didn’t expect to see you here, and you didn’t expect to see me. But I think I can use this to my advantage. See, there’s something I want to know for certain. And I think  _ you _ have the answers I need.”

Madame Northway’s expression shifted.

_ “…Impudent as you ever were, little demon.” _

“Thank you Madame. But this time I feel that I could possibly offer you something in return - maybe not at this precise moment, but I do know the value of repayment. That and I despise being indebted to others. So let’s make it an even exchange - much as an exchange between the pseudo-living and the undead  _ can _ be at least.”

Silence.

_ “…What is it that you wish to know?” _

“I want to know everything that you can recall about my birth mother, Constance.”

Silence.

_ “And why should I tell you something like that, demon?” _

“Because I know people who can exorcise your ass Agnes. And I won’t claim to know much about the living impaired, but if a dead person haunts a place they must love it a lot~”

Madame Northway’s face darkened - but Chara couldn’t tell if it was from fear or rage.

_ “…Are you threatening me, Miss Charity?” _

Chara sneered.

“Sorry, no  _ Miss Charity _ here Madame. It’s me…Chara Waking Dreemurr. Asking you for a simple favor in exchange for another. I’m just saying that I know what I want - and I have little to no intention of leaving until I get it. And if I can survive a hundred years unaged, then clearly I may as well have forever~”

The sky outside the inn darkened.

_ “You demon. If that witch hadn’t beguiled poor Father Hiram then demons like you -” _

For a moment Madame Northway’s eyes became…more real. No longer a reflection of the view at her back, but eyes as true and blue as the sea.

She gasped and collapsed to her knees.

_ “Non…non…je refuse…je refuse…” _

Chara just watched. Their heart was full of horror, but their body couldn’t move to either assist or flee.

_ “Miss Charity…non, non, Chara, that is who you are now…if…you wish to know more of…of Constance…remember…” _

Her eyes once more reflected the east window.

She shrieked, a hollow yet grating things to put banshees to shame. Chara yelped and held their ears to block out the sound.

Her entire being shifted now.

Hollow. Gaunt. Pale as death. Her brown hair free from its bun, floating about her.

But quick as Chara could blink, she was back to normal, eyes blue as the sea. But she was…shaking? Wavering? Certainly than she had been somehow, though she was no different from when Chara had first spotted her.

_ “…Gassé…immortal…eyes…ach, pourquoi ne puis-je pas en rappeler plus? Pourquoi maintenant? Pardonne-moi, mon enfant…I do wish I could help y -” _

She screeched, her entire being flickering between that gaunt, pale  _ thing _ and herself.

She gazed into Chara’s eyes, sea blue on ruby red.

_ “N'oubliez pas…Chara…she loved you and young William so…her precious bijoux…” _

Chara couldn’t move. They willed their body to move, but they were rooted to the spot.

_ “Run…I can’t…hold it…FUYEZ!” _

Chara did so.

They stumbled many times, and fell a few as well. All through the corridors, down the stairs, past the tables and chairs of the pub.

They slammed open the old inn door.

* * *

Asriel and Rowan stared at Chara in horror.

Their face was pale, their usual rosy cheeks pale as could be and more. Their wine red hair was flying all over the place. Their ruby eyes were wide with fear and bloodshot. Their legs and elbows were scraped and bloody.

The three stared at each other.

“…Let’s go back,” Chara said, voice confident as ever. “I got more than I expected, but less than I wanted. Now come on, let’s call Mom and Dunkle Sans and have ‘em pick us up.”

Asriel and Rowan just kept staring.

Chara stared back before their expression shifted in realization.

“Oh,” they gasped. “Hey Rowan! How ya been?”

“…Prinx Chara, are ye sure you’re a’richt?”

“Yeah, I…I will be…I…guess I ran Frisk off, huh…”

“SAVING so suddenly without ‘em’ll do that.”

“…Since when…?”

Silence.

“…Mibbie it’s got to do with the fact that there’s twa Red SOULs now,” Rowan mused. “Lot’s changin’. Mibbie that’s one o’ ‘em.”

Chara was silent.

They opened their mouth to speak.

Their tongue was heavy and their throat was dry. They chest was tight.

They whined and shook their head.

«Let’s just go home…» Chara signed. «I’ve had enough for one day…or weekend…»

Chara closed their eyes.

_ Gassé…immortal…eyes… _

They wouldn’t forget.

Not for a better family. Not for a better life.

Not for anything.

Chara Waking Dreemurr wanted  **Justice.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Home By The Sea - Genesis


	16. Dizzy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> berd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for implied animal abuse and mentions of Bing.

_ 10:32 A.M., September 21st, 20XS _

 

_ It’s a beautiful day outside. _

_ The sun is shining. _

_ A breeze is blowing. _

_ On days like this, kids like you… _

 

_ …are at your locker between classes. _

* * *

Chara, Frisk, and Asriel paused, hearing something inside Chara’s locker.

They glanced at each other.

Chara shrugged and opened their locker.

Their eyes widened in horror. A few students nearby gasped. Others shrieked.

Inside Chara Dreemurr’s locker was a pigeon. It was bloody and injured, but alive.

A few students crowded around to gawk.

Chara gently scooped the pigeon into their hands and ran to the principal’s office.

Frisk and Asriel blinked, then glanced at each other.

“…I never thought I’d have to tell a teacher that Chara’s gonna be late because they saved a pigeon’s life,” Asriel said.

«I can’t believe all that went down without any dialogue!» Frisk signed.

* * *

Everyone was staring at Hunter. Pretty hard not to considering she had massive scabs and what looked like claw marks on her face.

There were exactly two theories as to what happened, neither of which were actually  _ right. _

The first theory was that she tried to shave only to fail miserably. This was, surprisingly, the less accepted theory while also being closest to the truth.

The second and more accepted theory was that Linda tried to shave her and ended up fucking up her face. It was understandably more accepted due to what was known about Linda and her opinion of Hunter.

Certain people had a blast with that one.

“I think she did it because she wanted to kill him but caught in the act and tried to hide it.”

“She should have kept going.”

Rachel and one of her newer lackeys, a girl with mid back-length wavy buttery blonde hair and hazel eyes with giant hoop earrings, giggled.

Hunter just sighed quietly, used to Rachel’s bullshit.

“Why don’t you finish the job then, Ear Rape?” Brian snapped. “You did say that you were gonna kill him when he got the Spring Concert solo instead of you.”

Rachel’s eyes widened with rage.

“Who are you calling Ear Rape?!” she snapped.

“Rachel has the voice of an angel!” her lackey said.

“Apple, I think everyone would be more inclined to believe you if you had something called standards,” Ridley deadpanned, her headphones around her neck.

“I think those fugly earrings are feckin’ with her hearing,” Colleen mused. “Or her sanity.”

“Oh go back to Leprechaun Land!” Apple snapped.

“Says the bitch named after a feckin’ fruit.”

“Everyone quiet or you’re going to the office!” the teacher threatened.

All was silent.

Rachel and Apple turned to the Book Clubbers and stuck their tongues out.

The Book Clubbers did the same.

* * *

Chara sat in Principal Kierkegaard’s office, having cleaned up the pigeon.

Kierkegaard stared across her desk at Chara and the pigeon in their lap.

“So you want me to go through the CCTV…to find out who put the pigeon in your locker?” she reiterated.

“There are few crimes in this world worse than animal cruelty,” Chara said. “And cruelty to animals is considered a sign of potential violent tendencies toward Humans.”

“Why only Humans?” Kierkegaard asked.

“Because to the average Human mind Humans are the only ones worth defending in any capacity, and as the majority species in this world Humans will continue to dominate until they die rather than relinquish their corrupt hold.”

Kierkegaard just stared at Chara. They were gently holding the pigeon and avoiding her gaze. Their eyes were full of…something. Their cheeks were red, but less so than usual.

“…And all Humans are like this?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Including you?”

“I’m not a Human.”

“Then what are you?”

“A Demon.”

“Who says?”

“Me. I say. I also say that you’re lucky I reported this to you instead of trying to resolve it myself. Because I could. I have the friends and resources. But zero-tolerance policies are ineffective and no amount of justification will stop the administrators from protecting wrongdoers, especially Human ones.”

Kierkegaard had to keep herself from saying something rash.

“…Look. I’ll see what I can do. They’ll be on the CCTV recordings. I’ll let you know tomorrow if I have anything.”

Chara nodded.

“…If you’re gonna keep that pigeon I’ll call your parents first.”

Chara merely nodded.

Kierkegaard sighed and gestured for them to leave.

As they did, she reached into her desk and took some Advil before calling Toriel.

“Sometimes I reeeeeally don’t like my job…”

* * *

“knock knock.”

“Who is there?”

“yellow.”

“Yellow who?”

Sans opened the door.

“yellow~ is it me you’re looking for~”

Toriel laughed.

Sans sat next to her and took out some McDonald’s.

“got held up by you-know-who so i hit a drive-thru,” he said. “sorry pretty mama.”

“It’s alright Sans,” Toriel reassured. “My morning wasn’t exactly pleasant either, what with Claire Anderson trying to convince Mr. McBride to cut Monster History from social studies classes.”

“that bitch.”

“Indeed. She cited  _ Fox News _ as a source in her email.”

“…okay, imma correct myself here - that  _ stupid _ bitch.”

Toriel giggled.

“so other than claire blanderson pulling shit, how’s today?”

“Well, I got a call from Ms. Kierkegaard. She said that someone threw an injured pigeon in Chara’s locker and they’ve adopted it.”

Sans blinked.

“you lost me for a bit at  _ injured pigeon, _ t.”

“That’s not all.”

“oh jeez.”

“When they reported it, they apparently claimed that Humans were shown favoritism…”

“i mean, in society at large i can see where they’re comin’ from, but kierkegaard’s cool. chara wouldn’ta come to her if they didn’t think the same.”

Toriel sighed.

“That may be, but they could have done it without referring to themself as a  _ demon _ of all things…”

Sans’ eyelights flickered briefly.

“…huh. any idea why they called themself that?”

“They’ve done so since they first came to the Underground…but I do not know when it began…although their diary from their old life explains why they would think so…”

Sans put a hand on his fiancee’s arm in comfort.

He decided he would talk to Chara about it later.

* * *

Caroline stared down at the petite freckled strawberry blonde in front of her, her face comically expressive.

And it was humorously clear that she was confused and a bit suspicious.

“…Come again?” she asked, voice as even as ever.

“I…I like you, Caroline,” the strawberry blonde said, face flushed.

A few kids in the cafeteria gasped in shock.

Caroline felt very put on the spot.

“E-ever since I first saw you I really really liked you and - I know you’re probably not interested but - I-I just wanted you to know so I can get it off my mind!”

Caroline just stared at the girl in confusion.

“…And…who are you, exactly…?” she asked.

A few kids hissed at the accidental diss.

“Um…C-Caitlin Burns…” the strawberry blonde replied, voice quiet.

Silence.

“…Is this some kind of joke?” Caroline asked.

Hollering.

Caitlin B shook her head quickly.

“N-no! I-I’m serious!”

“Who paid you to do this, Alicia? Rachel? Miranda?”

“Thi-this isn’t a j-joke!” the smaller girl insisted, near tears.

“Well it’s either that or you’re lying.”

“It’s neither! I’m telling the truth!”

“…Look. I’m sorry. But I really doubt that. Even if it was true I’d have to turn you down - I’m not interested in anyone, much less someone I literally just met.”

Caitlin B looked exteremly hurt.

She didn’t say a word and she ran off sobbing, two girls who were likely her friends following after her.

Everyone gawked at Caroline, pointing and whispering.

She groaned and picked up her stuff, walking back to the library.

“And  _ this _ is why I eat lunch alone…”

* * *

Chiyo followed Mecatl onto the ferry from Hotland.

“Tralala~ And where are we going today?” the Riverperson sang.

“Waterfall,” Mecatl replied.

“Tralala~ Off we go~”

And the boat sped onward.

Before long the ferry reached Waterfall.

“Tralala~ There are more where she came from~”

Mecatl scoffed at the Riverperson and led Chiyo to the carvings on the wall in the dump.

They stared.

“…What is this…?” Chiyo piped anxiously.

“Whatever it is, it's important to Dr. Nil,” Mecatl dismissed.

“…Then why are  _ we _ here -”

“Take a photograph of it.”

“…E-excuse me, Centetl-sama?”

“Look mocosa, just take a photograph of the wall carvings and you can go back to school -”

“I don’t wanna go back.”

Mecatl stared at Chiyo for a bit. She seemed a bit…afraid.

“…Muy mal muy triste mocosa, you’re going back anyway,” the Quetzalcoatl dismissed.

“B-but Centetl-sama -”

“Just take the picture and let’s go!”

“Y-yes, Centetl-sama!”

Chiyo fumbled a bit as she took out her phone.

Her hands were trembling as she took the picture.

She lost her grip on her phone and it fell into the shallow water.

She screamed in horror and got to her knees, fumbling around for her phone.

“AAAAAAH, I’M SO SORRY CENTETL-SAMA, PLEASE FORGIVE ME OHIME-SAMA!” she cried out, tears streaming down her face.

Chiyo found her phone, snatching it up and clutching it to her chest and she cowered in a little ball, ears flat and eyes wide.

Mecatl groaned and rolled his jasper eyes.

“At least tell me it saved the photograph first,” he said, like there wasn’t a fearful cowering youth in front of him.

Chiyo sniffled and checked. She nodded in the affirmative.

“Bien. Now let’s go, mocosa.”

“Y-yes, Centetl-sama…”

* * *

Linda logged into the State Precious Moments Collectors Club website.

Just a few more minutes and she’d find her ranking - she was bound to be at least third this year with the passing of last year’s second-place collector.

She sipped some chardonnay and stared at the computer screen like M. Bison stared at his comm when Guile was getting his ass beat.

She stared at the onscreen timer. Just seconds away.

Linda was vibrating happily in place.

_ 5… _

_ 4… _

_ 3… _

_ 2… _

_ 1… _

Linda held back shrieks of excitement…

…and then the computer crashed.

She let out shrieks of pure rage.

She pressed ctrl+alt+delete, hoping if she slammed them hard enough enough times that it would take her back to the page.

When it did, she stared at the screen.

…Fourth place.

She was fourth. Fourth-largest collection of Precious Moments Figurines. Just like last year.

Then who stole her third-place spot?

She stared.

…Oh fucking  _ hell. _

Tomorrow’s PTA meeting was going to suck for someone.

And that someone  _ wasn’t _ Linda Jane Murphy.

* * *

Caroline, Brooke, and Trav were gathered at their table in French class.

“So what did we decide on?” Caroline asked.

“I think Seychelles works,” Brooke said. “The flag has blue.”

“Why the hell is that your logic?” Trav deadpanned.

“Because I like blue.”

“…And that’s it?!”

“Well why did  _ you _ pick it?”

Trav was quiet.

“…The diagonals are cool…” he grumbled.

“Well, that’s that then,” Caroline said. “I’ll turn the sheet in to Mr. Klein as soon as you guys sign it.”

Brooke and Trav wrote their names down, and Caroline went to the teacher.

The whispers of other students did not go unnoticed.

When Caroline returned, she glared at everyone. They shut up.

The Wizard sighed and sat down.

“People really have nothing better to do with their lives,” she said.

“No duh Dracula,” Trav sassed.

“Well you  _ did _ reject some poor girl in full view of the whole school,” Brooke said.

“That’s dumb logic, but then again people as a whole are pretty dumb. Easily distracted by numbered slips of green paper with dead guys on them.”

“…Nothing about this conversation has anything to do with paper dead guys,” Trav muttered.

Caroline just stared at Trav like he just said the dumbest thing she’d heard all day. Partly because he had.

“…Anyway, the obvious aside, we have lots of different ways we could format the presentation,” Caroline said. “A powerpoint, a poster board, a diorama, an essay…”

“Powerpoint,” Brooke and Trav said in near-unison.

“Okay then, that’s settled. We wanna do it through Google drive?”

“Sure,” Brooke said.

“I don’t have a Google,” Trav admitted. “I use Yahoo.”

Brooke and Caroline stared at him.

Then they started laughing.

“What?! What’s so funny?!”

The girls wouldn’t stop laughing.

They stopped a little when they saw a burly bald man with a gold earring in his left ear walk up to them.

“H-hey Mr. Klein,” Brooke managed

“And what’s so funny here mademoiselles?” Mr. Klein asked.

“Trav still uses Yahoo mail,” Caroline said bluntly.

Mr. Klein just gave Trav a disappointed glance.

“Oh my god, sue me for liking the layout more than Google!” Trav defended.

Mr. Klein sighed. “At least you don’t use Hotmail or Bing.”

“…Who the hell uses Bing?”

“Bon garçon,” Mr. Klein sighed before returning to his desk. “And use the  _ right _ kind of French in my salle de classe!”

Trav sighed.

This was going to be a looooong semester.

* * *

Chara walked a few steps ahead of Asriel and Frisk, their new birdy buddy peeking out of their coat pocket.

All was silent as the siblings walked through the park. And it wasn’t a comfortable silence either.

Frisk chewed on their stars as they walked. Asriel just wringed his hands together anxiously.

Chara petted the pigeon, which cooed softly in response.

They sighed.

“Look, if you guys have something to say, then say it why don’tcha?” they asked.

“Because you’re being mean,” Asriel grumbled.

“Well sooorry!” Chara sassed. “Sorry I’m not as  _ nice _ or  _ good _ as you and Frisk!”

“Chara, where the heck did  _ that _ come from?! Nobody’s saying that!”

“They don’t have to.”

«Chara, stop! Something is really wrong, and I wanna know what it is!» Frisk signed, expression fierce but worried.

“Too fucking bad! I don’t wanna talk about it!”

«I don’t care! If you don’t you’ll keep being angry!»

“Well I’m not gonna talk to  _ you _ about it if you keep forcing me like this!”

Frisk’s expression cracked.

Chara turned around and started walking home.

Frisk started crying.

Asriel comforted them.

But he looked ahead at Chara with concern in his eyes.

This  _ wasn’t _ like them.

* * *

Sans was asleep on the couch in the living room, Toriel in her favored armchair. Isolde the cat was asleep on his face, Yasmin resting peacefully at his feet.

The sound of the front door slamming ruined that quickly.

He opened one eye socket and watched as Chara threw their backpack on the floor and stormed up to their room.

Sans sighed and sat up.

“i’ll go talk to ‘em,” he said. “tori, you do damage control down here?”

“Very well…” the Boss Monstress sighed. “You do that.”

Sans nodded, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and shortcutted upstairs.

After a few minutes, a teary Asriel and a sobbing Frisk walked in the front door.

Toriel went up to them and scooped them in her arms, taking them to her armchair.

They just sobbed for a good while before calming down slightly.

“…What happened, my children?” Toriel asked.

Asriel sniffled. “C-Chara’s been…acting a-angry for a few days…F-Frisk’s been trying to reach out b-but…”

Toriel sighed.

“Chara has always been one to keep their feelings to themself,” she recalled. “Stubbornly so…the harder one pushes to get them to open up, the harder they fight back…”

«But that’s wrong!» Frisk signed. «Why can’t they talk about their feelings?!»

“Frisk, not everyone is as willing to open up about their feelings. It is different for everyone. It doesn’t mean they don’t love you - they love you very much.”

«Then why won’t they talk to me?!»

“Frisk Eternal Dreemurr,” Toriel said, voice gentle yet fierce, “trying to force Chara to open up will do nothing but push them away. They are not obligated to tell you everything they are feeling. They will do it on their own terms.”

Frisk was not placated by this.

Toriel noticed this and sighed. “Frisk…they know you care. And they care about you too - they made your favorite top, did they not?”

Frisk sniffled and nodded.

“They were your guide when you went through the Underground, were they not?”

Frisk nodded.

“Chara does care about you Frisk. But they need time when they are feeling like this - we had to learn this early on when we first adopted them. Just give them time. They will open up soon, I am certain.”

Frisk said nothing and silently cuddled up to their mother and brother.

* * *

Chara sat on their bunk, face lacking its usual flush. The pigeon sat in their lap.

Sans shortcutted next to them.

“…a pigeon huh?” he asked.

Chara nodded. “A rock pigeon, or common pigeon. I checked earlier - it’s a female. I’m naming her Olga, after Olga of Kiev.”

“huh. interesting.”

“…Why are you here?”

“to check on ya. you seemed upset when ya came in just now.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m just tired is all.”

“physically or emotionally?”

Chara said nothing for a moment.

“…Frisk keeps pressuring me to tell them why I’m upset even though asking me to tell them makes it worse,” they said.

“you try telling them that?”

“I tried to tell them to get off my case. Didn’t do shit but make them push harder.”

“you know they’re doing it be -”

“Because they’re worried and they love me,  _ well it’s suffocating me!” _

Sans said nothing.

Chara sighed.

“…I wanted to go to the beach on Saturday because…I had a dream Friday night. About my old life.”

Sans turned to face Chara, brow ridge quirked in interest.

“When I was eight, Will and I…we ran from the manor and stowed away on a merchant vessel. We stayed with them for a few months. We were allowed to stay as long as we helped them with cleaning and stuff. The captain of the ship was a great man too - treated Wil and I as his own. After a few months sailing up and down the eastern seaboard, we arrived back in Ebott…Will and I ended up staying at an inn on the shore. The North Shore Tavern, it was called. We…started spending a lot of time there after we got back. So did…Maman.”

Sans blinked.

“I wanted to go to the beach to see if I could find the inn again. I took Frisk and Asriel with me. We found it, but…I didn’t want to force them to join me. They kept insisting, but…I got mad and went in without them. It was…almost exactly like I remembered it. Just moldier and dustier.”

While I was inside, I…heard something. A piano playing a song I knew long ago. I followed it to the attic. And…the innkeeper’s wife was there.”

Sans’ eyelights went out.

“…you sayin’ what i think you’re sayin’?”

“Agnes Northway has been dead for nearly a hundred years. So yeah.”

“huh…”

“Anyway…since she was there…I had questions for her. And I asked them.”

Chara held Olga close to them, as if for comfort. The pigeon cooed softly.

“…She was…acting like she was being…possessed…or controlled…I don’t know how to say it, but…she tried to attack me…”

Sans’ left eye flashed briefly at this.

“…She had enough control to tell me to run away…and…I got…cryptic hints…I was thinking about bringing them up to Caroline. I…don’t want Frisk and Azzy sucked into this…”

“but why caroline?” Sans asked.

“She’s less likely to cry or pry, and she can help with research - she knows where everything is in the school library, and probably the University one too.”

Silence.

“…I want your help too Dunkle Sans. Please? I’ll tell Frisk and Azzy later. For now I wanna learn more before I do anything else.”

Sans silently held onto Chara.

“…i’ll see what i can do.”

Chara smiled at Sans.

“on one condition.”

Chara’s smile fell.

“…say it.”

Chara sighed.

“…I see dead people.”

Sans laughed and noogied Chara.

…He knew that wasn’t everything that was bothering them. But he knew better than to pry. And hey, it was something to do while waiting for shit from the Heart.

And the kid seemed to be feeling better.

* * *

In the dark of the night, at the foot of a mountain by the sea, the impossible was happening.

Irises sprouted and bloomed without cause, by a railroad track long abandoned. On the tracks, a light shone in the distance, coming steadily closer.

A train whistle blew. But though there was a light, and a whistle, there was no train on this line.

As the ghost light passed, the irises glowed faintly in the unobstructed starlight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dizzy - Goo Goo Dolls  
> Hello - Lionel Richie


	17. Right Before Your Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot Twist? Plot Twist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ready for Plot Twist?

_12:10 P.M., September 22nd, 20XS_

 

_It’s a lovely day outside._

_The air is crisp._

_The leaves will soon be turning._

_On days like this, kids like you…_

 

_…are training your pigeon to type._

* * *

Well, they _wanted_ to. Chara didn’t currently have Olga with them, to their chagrin. She needed proper veterinary care - so she was at the local animal shelter. Chara was going to visit this afternoon.

And every afternoon until their feathered friend was healthy enough to take home.

They watched Frisk type from the corner of their eye. They were making typos, backspacing through entire lines to fix them.

On their other side, Zeke was…still typing with two fingers. But he was faster at it.

Zeke noticed Chara and turned to them, smiling.

“Good afternoon, Chara!” he piped.

Chara hummed in response before returning to their typing.

They didn’t notice Zeke staring at them for a bit longer before going back to work.

But someone did.

* * *

“Levon Smith to the principal’s office, Levon Smith to the principal’s office.”

A tall boy with dark brown dreadlock fade hair and warm brown eyes with a golden brown complexion stood up with his backpack and left the classroom to whispers.

He walked down the hall and sat next to a smaller boy - probably a sixth grader - with wavy brown hair and hazel eyes who was playing GTA V on a PS Vita.

Levon suddenly regretted sitting down.

The kid stared at him. Levon could see from the corner of his eye the depths of the hate in this kid.

“What’re you in for?” the kid asked.

Levon shrugged. Didn’t want the kid getting any ideas.

“I put a dead pigeon in Chara Dreemurr’s locker,” the boy said smugly. “I did it for fifty bucks and BJ from this one cheerleader. I think she’s an eighth grader. I’m just waiting for my dad to pick me up - he’s taking me to the shooting range.”

Aaaand nope. Levon got up and moved far away from this brat.

Levon saw a woman walk into the office. She seemed really upset.

“Scott Foley, come. Now.”

The boy looked up at the women, his expression pinched.

“Where’s Dad? He was supposed to pick me up today!” he snapped.

“Your father was going to come _at three,”_ the woman sighed. “It’s half-past one, he’s not off work yet. Next time you won’t put dead animals in girls’ lockers.”

“I’m not going until Dad gets here!”

The woman walked over and grabbed Scott by the ear.

Scott protested loudly as he was dragged away.

Levon stayed in his current spot.

“Levon, you can go on back now,” the secretary announced.

Levon stood up and walked to the principal’s office.

“You wanted to see me ma’am?” he asked.

“Mr. Smith,” Kierkegaard said, clearly still tired from dealing with Scott. “Follow me.”

He did as asked.

They reached one of the conference rooms - he recalled being in one while his mom discussed his younger brother’s IEP.

But this wasn’t for that. The husky man in the nice suit with a white skunk stripe in his dark gray hair was evidence of that.

“Levon Smith,” the man seemed to announce, showing a very false smile made to blind any who looked directly at it. “I’m Harv King, the athletic director at Edgemere Preparatory Academy. I’m here today to talk to you about a potential scholarship deal.”

Levon’s eyes widened.

Edgemere Prep. One of the top five schools for athletics in the entire state. And Harv King. Starting linebacker for Ebott U from ‘85-‘89. Infamous for showboating. Famous for his three consecutive touchdowns during the Bowl Game of ‘88. He never went pro for reasons long forgotten by the citizens of Ebott.

“…Sir, I don’t play football,” Levon pointed out, before mentally facepalming.

Harv just chuckled. “I know that. I’m here to offer you a _basketball_ scholarship, son,” he said, Levon mentally cringing at being called “son”. “Full ride, too. The Wolves will be glad to have ya.”

Levon was silent.

“Now you don’t have to decide right this minute, son,” Harv reassured. “You just have to make your final decision by May 5th of next year. We’ll be having all the eighth graders who’ve been offered scholarships on a tour of the campus in April.”

Levon said nothing, but sighed in relief at not having to choose now.

“The bell’s about to ring,” Harv said. “Here, my business card. You make your choice, just call this number.”

Harv gave Levon a business card.

“Welp! Hope to see you soon, son!”

And with that Harv left.

Levon was still uncomfortable about being called “son” by this middle-aged white man.

He turned to Principal Kierkegaard.

“Is he gone?” he asked.

“I hope so,” the principal sighed.

* * *

“You sure you saw right?”

“I know what I saw.”

“And you didn’t even get pictures?!”

“Mrs. Weaver took my phone…”

“And you didn’t scream at her? You are _such_ a dumb blonde.”

“At least it’s natural, unlike your _nose.”_

Alicia and Rachel had opted to skip their last period class and go to the strip mall downtown. There they engaged in some of their favored pastime - gossiping, shopping, and attempting to drive the other’s self esteem into the ground. They claimed it was practice for destroying the self esteem of lesser people, and they were half-honest.

Which was 50% more honest than they were the rest of the time.

“You think we should bribe Foley to do something?” Rachel asked. “You _are_ dating his dad’s credit cards.”

“Hmmm…yeah, I won’t stoop to that level,” Alicia dismissed. “Maybe I could pay someone _else_ to bribe him.”

“Maybe - wait, that _is_ bribery.”

“What? Even if you’re making someone else do it?”

“You’re bribing someone to bribe someone else.”

Alicia just stared at Rachel like she’d grown seven more heads.

“Yeah, you’ve gone from dumb blonde to full-on _retard,”_ she sneered.

A few people gasped.

Alicia looked around, head high and haughty.

“That’s right, I said _the r-word!_ What are you gonna do, call my dad, _Baron Berry?”_

The people just looked at each other and whispered.

Alicia could hear words like “entitled” and “filthy mafia brat”. She paid them no mind - she didn’t even know what that first word meant anyway so it must not be a real word in the first place. And mafia? Her dad wasn’t mafia. He was a businessman - were people really that stupid that they thought any successful businessman was in the mafia? Nobody in her family was Italian anyway!

“When you’re done holding your fugly fake nose in the air, Alicia, our spa appointment is in half an hour,” Rachel said as she checked her nails.

“Your boobs are what’s fake!” Alicia snapped. “Nobody in our grade has tits that huge except that fatass Book Club bitch!”

Rachel stared at Alicia, her face turning red.

She took out her phone and tapped the screen.

“I just cancelled your spa reservation,” she said. “Have fun with those massive pores and Michael Jackson nose.”

“You’re lying,” Alicia hissed. “You wouldn’t _dare.”_

“I just did. And I can prove it. Cancellation - real as my boobs. So fuck you and your entire plastic whore family!”

And with that Rachel stormed off, leaving Alicia standing by the coin fountain.

Alicia stormed off, fighting down screams of entitled rage.

She took out her phone.

“Pierre, pick me up at the Starbucks on Main,” she snapped. “Bring the Rolls Royce.”

She hung up and stalked off to the Starbucks.

This was the third time this month she and Rachel had fought to a breaking point. They’d be back to normal at school tomorrow though.

They always were. They had to be.

Until high school that is. Then there could only be one.

* * *

Caroline passed by the locker she’d been given the number to.

She could still recall the conversation she’d had with her dad last night.

=/=

**_10:54 P.M., September 22nd, 20XS_ **

_Caroline knocked on the door of Randy’s study before opening it and sitting down in the armchair in the corner. Randy was at his computer, playing Lord of the Rings Online._

_He paused the game and turned his chair toward Caroline._

_“What’s up, Sweet Caroline?” he asked._

_Caroline sighed. “Someone asked me out at lunch today,” she said._

_Randy blinked. “Uh…huh…? And you said…?”_

_“I didn’t believe her and thought she was put up to it by someone because you can’t fall in love with someone you only just met.”_

_Randy quirked an eyebrow._

_“A girl confessed to you?” he asked._

_“Yes.”_

_“Huh. Okay then. Well…did you actually tell her you didn’t believe her or did you just turn her down and keep your thoughts to yourself - oh shit I just answered my own question didn’t I.”_

_Caroline merely nodded._

_“She ran off crying for some reason. Either she was really good at putting on that act or she was serious.”_

_Randy just stared at Caroline for a bit._

_“…If she ran off in tears, she was definitely serious,” Randy explained. “When I was in tenth grade, Marian Albrecht asked me to the Sadie Hawkins dance. Now I knew -”_

_“Wait, Sadie Hawkins dances were a real thing?” Caroline interjected._

_“Yes, now as I was saying, I knew her name because she was in my chemistry class, but in that moment my mind couldn’t remember so, dumbass teenage boy that I was, I had to ask her what her name was. The way she started crying I might as well have just rejected her outright.”_

_“Were you going to anyway?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Why? Did you like someone else?”_

_Randy’s expression shifted. “What does that have to do with this?”_

_“I’m curious.”_

_The girl had her legs crossed, hands in her lap, sparkling silver eyes gazing enraptured at her father._

_Randy sighed wearily. “I had a girlfriend at the time, actually.”_

_“Oh, okay. So uh…how did you like…clear it up? Or did you at all?”_

_“I did. I explained to her later what happened.”_

_“Okay.”_

_“Well, she didn't exactly accept it at the time, but it got better - aaand you’re not listening anymore.”_

_“Nope.”_

_“Okay, g’night Care-Bear.”_

_“Night Dad.”_

_Caroline gave Randy a hug and a kiss on the cheek before rushing back to her room and starting to write._

=/=

Caroline stared at the letter in her hand before she felt something in the aether.

By now she knew to focus on it to find what it was coming from.

It was easier than usual since Caitlin B appeared next to her at this point.

Caitlin B looked slightly afraid.

Caroline felt a surge of guilt hit her.

She groaned and pushed the letter at Caitlin B.

“Here,” she said. “Do what you want with it.”

Caitlin B opened it then and there to Caroline’s surprise.

_ Caitlin Burns, Locker B-109 (the one with the bisexual pride heart sticker and a Hufflepuff House magnet) _

_I wish to formally apologize for my words, as they ~~could come across as probably sounded~~ were rather harsh. In the moment, being ~~accosted~~ approached publicly without prior notice was a rather overwhelming experience. Especially when I heard the reasons - I sincerely cannot comprehend the notion of love at first sight. I really do not have any romantic interests at this time, but I do hold affection for someone I’ve known for some time, and perhaps one day I can call this someone a romantic interest. Therefore I cannot return your affections. I do, however, wish you all the best in your future romantic endeavors._

 

_ Regards, _

_ C.V. Marlow, locker C-131 (the one with the “DANGER HIGH VOLTAGE” sign and a magnet of the Eye of Sauron) _

Caitlin B’s hands were shaking and she was holding back tears.

She sniffled and smiled.

“…Thanks,” she said. “I’m sorry I…put you on the spot like that…I didn’t know what else to do…my mind was telling me ‘it’s now or never’ and…I didn’t consider how you’d feel about it…but I also don’t regret it.”

Caroline pauses with a strange look in her eyes before nodding.

“I understand,” she said. “I should go now, I was just stopping here on my way back to class.”

Caitlin B smiled. “See you around then?”

Caroline offered a smile back and nodded before rushing off.

The girl did have a cute smile, she wouldn’t deny it. But it wasn’t _quite_ the same cute as Penelope’s.

But the fact that it wasn’t an _entirely_ different kind was…rather strange.

She paused briefly in place.

“…Huh. So I’m demi- _lesbian,_ not demi- _bi._ Interesting.”

_Penelope’s still the cutest._

* * *

Nash sighed as the guard locked the cell, the man inside glaring at him.

“So much for being a _distinguished member of the community,_ eh?” the guard sighed.

Nash merely hummed.

“Really, this is the third one in as many months,” the guard continued. “This could be bad PR for the department, and we don’t need any more of it after -”

“Don’t.”

“Right. See ya ‘round Wayne.”

“It’s _Nash.”_

“Yeah yeah.”

Nash sighed and left, clocking out for the day.

He knew where he had to go.

So he drove to the office of Sienna Harper.

Joel was at the front desk, talking on the phone.

The young man glanced up at him and nodded in greeting, gesturing for him to sit down.

“Yeah, it’s going fine. Yeah, I’ll let her know. Thanks. Bye.”

Joel hung up, letting out a huge sigh.

“Oh my fucking _god_ I hate talking on the phone,” he wheezed.

“It’s just talking, but on the phone,” Nash noted.

Joel lowered his head in shame, to Nash’s confusion.

Sienna chose this moment to materialize.

“Hey boys,” she greeted with a wave - her nails this time were orange and pink ombre with gold sparkly tips.

“Miss Harper, Mr. Silver just called,” Joel relayed. “He said to tell you he’s dropping by to check in next Thursday in his sister in tow.”

“Huh, good to know,” Sienna replied. “Thanks. And hey Blue, sup.”

“It’s Nash, and I’ll have you know Marc Ferrell was arrested today for bribing a public official.”

Sienna crossed her arms. “I know you won’t believe me when I say this, but I had nothing to do with _that_ one.”

“Really? Because he fits your criteria.”

“I only go after perps whose crimes could genuinely endanger someone. Not saying he didn’t deserve it, he did, I did some looking into him. But I prefer going after producers of hard drugs, abusers, rapists, violent offenders, and embezzlers. I would have gone after that son he tried to get acquitted of arson.”

“…That just makes it sound like you _did_ do it.”

“Believe me, if I’d done it I’d tell you. I’ve been doing prep work for a mid-size case that could get big later on - have been the last few weeks. But hey - good to see somebody in this town gives a crap about **Justice**.”

Nash moved forward until he was standing over Sienna - right in her face. He was pissed.

“You don’t know the first damn thing about justice,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

“Um, sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to back away,” Joel said, voice a mix of nervousness and indignation.

Nash glanced at the young man. His face was calm, but he was clearly ready to defend if necessary.

“Thank you Joel, but that won’t be necessary,” Sienna assured, the picture of poise. “Listen Officer, I know **Justice** . My SOUL is almost literally _made_ of the stuff. I also know what the opposite looks like - my Magic is proof.”

Her golden-eyed gaze was hard and condemnatory, voice calm and fierce.

Silence passed.

Nash felt a heaviness in the air. Like something was spreading and trying to absorb into his skin.

“Now back away Blue, and go get yourself a fucking breathmint,” Sienna sassed.

Nash did so, staring at Sienna.

“…The hell did you just do?” he asked.

Sienna smiled. It was a smile of cruel, cruel neutrality.

“Wasn’t me,” she said. “But…you may wanna take a salt bath and light an incense when you get home. Sage works best to get rid of unwanted Spirits, good jack-of-all-trades stuff.”

Nash’s eyes widened.

“Go,” Sienna said.

“…But -”

“Now. I’m closing up early tonight.”

Joel seemed awkward. Didn’t even glance in Nash’s direction.

Nash left without another word.

Sienna and Joel stayed in place. Uncle was sitting on the front desk.

Sienna went to sit down on a chair. She was staring into space.

Joel looked very worried.

“Uh…Miss Harper, do…you need me to close up for you…?” he asked hesitantly.

Sienna nodded silently.

Joel nodded and got on it.

After he locked up, he went over to the minifridge behind the desk and grabbed a bottle of water.

He gave it to Sienna.

“Want me to getcha a paper bag to breathe into…?” he asked.

Sienna shook her head and took a swig of water. “I’m fine. Thank you.”

Uncle sighed.

“Yanno Missy, that man don’t know what in hell he’s talkin’ about,” he said. “You know **Justice** . You find it on your own terms, he finds it on someone else’s. You know **Justice** because you wanna get it.”

Sienna smiled gratefully, a tear in her eye.

“Ya ain’t bad for an Injun, Ms. Harper.”

Joel stared at Uncle, clearly horrified.

Sienna merely chuckled. “Joel, he died way back in 1858. Give him a break, he’s learning.”

“That’s one of them racist things, ain’t it?” Uncle asked sheepishly.

“Yeah,” Sienna said. “Not the _worst_ you could do, but it is rather obsolete and offensive. The term Native American or simply Native is used these days.”

“Huh, thanks for tellin’ me,” Uncle said.

“Anytime,” Sienna said. “You’re better at accepting it than most. And hey - you aren’t too bad for a man with a pencil mustache.”

Joel bit back a laugh.

Sienna finished the water bottle, and stood up and stretched.

“Shall we call in a pizza?” she asked.

Joel smiled. “Heck yeah!”

* * *

The phone rang at MTT Manor.

“I WILL GET IT MY SHINING STAR!” Papyrus called, running to the nearest phone.

He gasped happily at the sight of the caller ID.

He picked up.

“METTATON MANOR, THIS IS THE GREAT PAPYRUS SPEAKING! MAY I HELP YOU?”

_“Am I speaking to Papyrus Gaster?”_ said the man on the other end.

“THAT YOU ARE, SIR!

_“Oh, good! I have great news - you got the job!”_

Papyrus gasped happily!

“REALLY?! I-I MEAN, OF COURSE I DID!”

The man on the other end chuckled.

_“You can start next Monday! That work for you?”_

“OF COURSE!”

_“Okay then! We’ll see you then! We look forward to working with you!”_

And with that Papyrus hung up.

Mettaton walked up to him and wrapped his arms around his skeletal lover’s waist.

“You got the job?” he asked, an excited grin on his face.

“I GOT THE JOB!”

The couple screamed excitedly. Loudly.

Mettaton started kissing Papyrus and uttering words of pride and love. Mostly the second thing.

“Papy dearest, we are going out to eat tonight! And tomorrow night we will announce the good news to our family and I will brag on _all_ of my social medias about you!”

“AND I SHALL BRAG ABOUT YOU IN KIND!”

“Oh nonoNO my sweet, this week will be all about _you,_ is that understood?”

Papyrus smiled. Mettaton pulled Papyrus’ face down close to his.

“I am going to take the week off and just love…”

He wrapped his arms around Papyrus’ neck.

“Love…”

He hooked a leg over his pelvis.

_“Love_ you this week, and I am _not_ going to stop until this job of yours _drags_ me from your arms.”

Papyrus knew Mettaton knew that he was ready for what came next. The close contact made _not_ feeling it next to impossible.

The orange and pink glows emanating from the both of them made their intentions very plain to see.

Bold and bright. Just like their love.

Just like them.

* * *

Janice looked out at the rest of the PTA.

For whatever reason, Linda was glaring at Susan instead of at Amber. Susan was confused as could be. Sans was…sleeping as usual. Amber was…absent? Strange.

This meeting was going to be…unusual.

Janice took a deep breath and hoped she didn’t just jinx it.

“Alright everyone,” she announced. “Let’s get this show on the road. Any questions before we start?”

“Yes, when do the school musical auditions start?” Susan asked.

“Next Monday, in the auditorium, lasting through the week.”

When all were satisfied that no questions were left, the meeting began.

Linda was giving Susan the most impressive death glare. Paying zero attention to anything that was being said.

Susan wasn’t paying attention to anything but her phone.

Linda wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there, but she was immediately snapped out of it when Janice announced the meeting over.

Everyone started to leave - including Sans. He glanced back at her with…suspicion? Concern? Whatever it was she didn’t like it but had no time to dwell on it. She had _words_ to say.

She walked up to Susan Schmidt and tapped her on the shoulder.

She provided the most sugary smile she could muster.

“Hiiii, I don’t know if we’ve been properly introduced,” she said. “I’m Linda Thompson! You’re…Suzanne Smith?”

“Susan Schmidt,” the woman corrected. “May I help you? My daughter and husband are at home waiting on me and I have dinner to make, so I can’t be held up too long.”

“Oh, of course,” Linda assured. “This’ll only take a moment, I promise.”

“Well, what is it?”

This was it. Linda smirked internally.

“Weeell, I just wanted to make sure I was correct in seeing that you had the third-largest collection of Precious Moments figurines in the state? Despite, you know, being from Ohio?”

Susan pursed her lips.

“I’m from _Iowa,”_ she corrected. “But yes, that’s right. I collect glass and porcelain figurines as a hobby.”

“Really,” Linda said tersely. “So…do your children have any… _hobbies?”_

“Becky does pageants and tap dancing,” Susan said. “She’ll be trying out for the school musical.”

“Ah, that’s lovely,” Linda dismissed. “I was thinking about having my Hannah sign up for ballet. My son Hunter is on the soccer team - they’re actually going to state this year! What about your son?”

“Look, I don’t have time for this,” Susan said, grabbing her purse and preparing to storm off. “My daughter gets scared when I’m not home by five.”

Linda’s face scrunched in confusion. “But your husband’s at home, he’s able to protect her.”

“And yet she still needs her mommy -”

“You didn’t answer me when I asked about your son!”

“That’s not important, now _goodbye.”_

Linda watched as Susan stormed off.

She then hatched the most brilliant plot.

She smiled pridefully as she walked to the clubroom to get her son.

* * *

Chara sat cross-legged on the linoleum floor of the Ebott Animal Shelter. They were completely surrounded by different birds - parrots, budgerigars, cockatiels, pigeons, crows, chickens…

But only Olga - identified by her green and yellow striped ankle tag - sat in Chara’s lap.

The weight was somehow comforting to the young enby. They stroked Olga’s back, the resulting coos further relaxing them.

Then many of the birds flew back to their cages, the rest flying about in a bit of a panic. One of the shelter employees walked in - a young adult male Human with shaggy brown hair and brown eyes. Physically one would think him a skater dude rather than an animal shelter employee, but the uniform doesn’t lie.

“Little dude, your time’s about up,” he said. “I know you’re hype for Olga here to come back with you, but it’s just a few more days while she gets her medical prep together,” the man said.

“I know,” Chara said. “Thank you though, sir.”

“Call me Jase little dude,” the employee said with a smile. “Just remember to sign out and schedule up again for tomorrow afternoon, okay?”

Chara nodded. They put Olga back in her cage and left.

Frisk and Asriel had gone home with Toriel after she’d dropped Chara off at the shelter, so Chara was on their own for now.

They sent a text to Sans and stood outside and waited.

And waited.

…And waited.

They stared at the sun. It was inchined ever closer to the horizon.

They checked the time on their phone.

…5:45 P.M. They’d been waiting for fifteen minutes.

They checked to see if the text had delivered.

It had. With a read notification too.

They were starting to get frustrated.

They sent out another text.

They stormed off, deciding to just walk home if their Dunkle wasn’t going to come pick them up like he’d promised.

* * *

Sans rode his bike along the highway, Carlson’s vehicle in his mirrors. The man was clearly following him.

This wouldn’t do. He had to shortcut.

But first he’d have to lose Carlson _and_ avoid breaking the law at the same time.

This would be hard. The man was crafty.

But Sans was no slouch either - he just wished this was like Mario Kart. Much less work involved. And no chance of lawsuits if he dropped a random banana peel in the road.

So Sans chose his favored, tried-and-true lose-‘em-all tactic.

Disorientate.

He made a legal u-turn on Olsen Bridge, to Carlson’s seeming confusion. Then he made a right, then a left, then a right again, going further inland toward the reservoir. He made his way around the reservoir, and onto an old backstreet.

He checked to see if he’d lost Carlson.

He had.

Good.

Sans sped up and shortcutted to the animal shelter.

He took out his phone to tell Chara he was here.

His eyelights went dark at the last text they sent. Ten minutes ago.

_ *2 texts from: =)* _

_Chara.txt: If you weren’t actually going to pick me up, then say so._

_Chara.txt: I am walking home. I will text Mom when I arrive. Say hi to Frisk and Asriel for me._

Sans’ hands shook.

He sent a text to Toriel, left eye glowing Cyan and Yellow.

_Sans.txt: i ran late getting chara trying to get carlson off my ass_

_Sans.txt: chara decided to walk_

_Sans.txt: im so sorry toriel_

_Sans.txt: ill be late_

_Sans.txt: im gonna go look for em_

He left the texting app and opened another app.

One he’d personally made.

Designed to track the phone signals of anyone in his contacts in emergencies.

He put in Chara’s info.

And followed the pings.

He barely noticed the quickly-growing sprouts on the roadside.

* * *

Elaina was walking home from ballet, exhausted and aching. After so much dancing, mere walking was a welcome respite. Though actual rest would be better, they weren’t allowed to use Uber or Lyft, they weren’t able to apply for a city bus pass, their bike had been thrown a dumpster by some eighth graders last April and never replaced, and Irma was in Los Angeles on business until October.

Wait…they?

Yeah, Elaina was they. They’d been feeling exclusively like a “they” for _weeks_ now. It was odd, but Dr. Bradley said it was actually normal. Genderfluidity didn’t exactly have a set pattern to it. It differs among individuals, and even in a single individual a pattern can change or simply not exist.

But hey. Tomorrow they’d be going to Kristina’s house to hang out - that was something to look forward to!

They zoned out for a bit before a glowing white and gold blur snapped them out of it.

They noticed irises blooming next to them.

They didn’t think to question the shape of the blur.

They’d grown used to unusual sights.

* * *

Brooke sat on the bay window cushion in her room, her laptop in her lap as she looked up more incense.

Maybe she should look into a few essential oils too, she’d heard about them in the past. She’d have to study more.

…Wait, shit, she had to study. English quiz tomorrow.

Brooke put away her laptop, and went to take her textbook out of her backpack. Then she lit three incense sticks - cinnamon, lemongrass, and sandalwood.

She honestly expected the combination to overwhelm her senses - especially with the lemongrass tacked on. But the sandalwood seemed to mute it, allowing the cinnamon to shine through while still being noticed. Perhaps it was how they were arranged? Who knew, who cared. It was nice. Clarifying. Strengthening.

She’d have to use cinnamon more often -

…Wait.

Why was she thinking about…?

Then her cell went off. A text message.

She grabbed her phone to see who it was.

And felt a strange thrill, like horror and happiness at once.

As if the universe knew she was thinking about him -

No. Impossible. Just a coincidence.

_*1 text from: Idiot*_

_Eddie.txt: Check it!_ 8D

It was a picture. Clearly taken just now, if the gorgeous sunset in the image was anything like the one Brooke could see from her window.

But it wasn’t just the sunset.

Irises. Blooming all in a row on the edge of a sidewalk. A slight pearlescent sheen gave the flowers an ethereal glow in the twilight.

It was…honestly one of the most beautiful sights she’d ever seen.

Then he’d texted her a sound byte of that “They’re here~” line from the movie Poltergeist.

Her eyes widened a little.

_Brooke.txt: You like 80’s horror movies???_

_Eddie.txt: lmao yeah, pero that ain’t why I put it here!_

_Eddie.txt: The things have been all over the news! Es loco!_

_Brooke.txt: It’s beautiful. I bet the Book Club agrees._

_Eddie.txt: ???_

_Brooke.txt: Didn’t you show this to them?_

_Eddie.txt: Oh! I haven’t yet - I wanted to show you first._

_Eddie.txt: Do you like it?_ Σ83

Brooke reread the message three times…to the third power. Opting to completely ignore the weird…thing, at the end.

What the hell was with that?

_Brooke.txt: I just said it’s beautiful, idiot. I think that’s a yes._

_Eddie.txt: Yeet!_

_Eddie.txt: …Wait, how did you know Poltergeist was an 80’s horror movie?!_

Oh shit. Oh fuck.

_Brooke.txt: Lucky guess. It looks old and horrible._

_Eddie.txt: Nice try, chiquitita, I know a geek when I see one._ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

_Brooke.txt: What, a cheerleader can’t appreciate a good 80’s movie?!_

_Eddie.txt: You loco? You got depth! I like that!_

Brooke stared at the text. Three times to the third power.

She went to open the window. It was getting hot.

She let the early autumn breeze cool her off a little.

Then she noticed.

She took a photo of the mystery irises growing in her yard.

She sent them to Eddie.

_Brooke.txt: Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it. - Ferris Bueller_

_Brooke.txt: Now don’t bug me, I have to study - quiz in English._

_Eddie.txt: …Mierda, I forgot._

_Brooke.txt: I can show you my notes before school tomorrow._

_Eddie.txt: MY ANGEL!!!_

_Brooke.txt: Angels don’t break noses._

_Eddie.txt: You’re special~ ;)_

Brooke turned off her phone so she could focus on anything but the heat.

Really, what’s with the sudden warm front?

* * *

Chara was about halfway home, if the elm tree with the brain-shaped knot in the bark was any indication.

They stopped suddenly.

What was that feeling in the air?

They looked around, suspicious.

The irises grew and bloomed around them, like weeks passed by in seconds.

They were enclosed by the blooms.

And they were closing in tighter.

Chara wanted to run…but something in the air kept them pinned in place.

_Don’t run. Stay. I have a message from out of time._

They saw a golden-white blur.

It was following the path of the irises, spiraling in toward them.

They instinctively held their backpack by the strap, ready to swing at the first sign of danger.

Then the blur was gone.

But they didn’t move to let down their guard.

_Turn around, Red Child, and face me._

Chara swallowed thickly, and slowly turned.

They came face to face with the last thing they ever expected or wanted to see.

“…Oh. Hell. No.”

Red eyes were on gold.

Wine red hair blew in the wind alongside a mane of polished gold.

The child is not in the mood for this shit.

But the Unicorn was not having it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right Before Your Eyes - America  
> Hello - Lionel Richie

**Author's Note:**

> See ya, Space Cowboy.


End file.
